


isn't it lovely, all alone?

by wasatch_97



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Barista Han Jisung | Han, Body Dysphoria, Car Accidents, Complicated Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Grade Skipping, Guilt, Han Jisung | Han is a Sweetheart, Identity Issues, LMAO, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, Lee Minho | Lee Know is a Sweetheart, Lee Minho | Lee Know-centric, M/M, Memory Loss, Nightmares, Oops, Panic Attacks, Soft Boys, Sort Of, Suicide is briefly mentioned, a lot of emotions lol, a lot of skz and 3racha songs are used and will be listed in notes, blond jisung!!!, college students on summer break au, deaths of cats are faked, for a little bit - Freeform, i guess she means well??, i love lee felix and that's the tea, it just sounds rough, jisung produces music, jisungs mom is an ass, jk this is rough but there are a lot of cute moments, mentioned injuries and blood, minho danced, minho's mom is FIERCE lmao, minsung - Freeform, more or less, they're both sad bbys, this is cute ok, yup, yup forgot those
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22460917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasatch_97/pseuds/wasatch_97
Summary: “Are you okay?” Minho asks softly. “I’m sorry if I asked anything invasive.”“No, no,” Jisung shakes his head. “It’s just that I was in a bad accident last year and I lost a lot of memories. I have amnesia, or so the doctors say. What I mean is my family told me I’ve always loved music. So I guess I have.”“I hope you’re okay now,” Minho says, fidgeting with his coffee cup, his blood like ice.“I was in a coma for a few days, at least that’s what they told me,” Jisung shrugs, taking a sip of his drink as they come up to Minho’s house, stepping inside the open garage, cold air immediately hitting them. “There were a bunch of things that I didn’t remember when I woke up. Basic things like certain types of food, normal daily stuff. But also memories. It was really scary waking up to that - to be told there were things I had forgotten, people I had forgotten, that I had lost more than half of my life.”Or, Jisung comes home from uni for the summer break.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 26
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

Minho doesn’t really keep track of his bad days anymore, there have been too many. In all honesty he wouldn’t even call them bad, maybe just mediocre. Because the one truly bad day he had ever lived through had ripped apart his life and splintered his heart, leaving it incomparable to anything else. It also had numbed him to a point where he can’t remember what it's like to not feel smothered, trapped. Alone.  


He’d given up on himself, or so his mother had cried to his father when they thought he was asleep. He’s twenty and back at home, working part time at an office supply store and waiting out the remaining months of summer break to return to the local college down the street as a junior. His thoughts no longer revolve around dance and music and sunny smiles, no. Looming in the back of his mind at all times is a monster of fear and guilt, self-hate and tears.  


Minho dreads going to sleep because he’s always forced to let go of the hand he _needs_ to hold, and he’s always jolted awake by the tiniest noise, his blood thrumming in panic. Minho isn’t the person he was a year ago.  


He’s changed.  


But not enough - never enough to forget the face that appears in front of him one Sunday morning in mid-June.  


“Hey, Minho-ssi, right?”  


Minho’s phone clatters to the floor of his garage, the caricature he had been playing on Crossy Road squeaking as it’s run over. He fumbles to pick the device up, stuffing it into his back pocket to hide his shaking hands and takes a breath as he turns. _This was bound to happen sooner or later.  
_

__

__

_But why couldn’t it be later?_  


Jisung is standing just under the garage door frame, peering up at Minho with his large dark eyes. He looks a little bit older since the last time Minho had seen him, features more defined. He’s blond now too - the color suiting him well. His hair is mussed and is falling over his forehead prettily even as he rakes a hand through the strands, looking too put together in just a white shirt and black jeans. Well, what did Minho expect - Jisung had always been beautiful.  


Minho doesn’t bother glancing down to know that he’s still in the same stained hoodie and sweats from yesterday, but what can he do? “Yeah, that’s me.” He feels relief flood him when his voice doesn’t crack.  


“I’m your neighbor, I live over there,” Jisung waves a hand towards the Han’s house. Minho hums in response, grabbing the box of board games he was supposed to bring in to his mom off the workbench, anything to distract him from panicking. Jisung, luckily or not, doesn’t seem to mind his lack of focus.  


“My parents told me you’re good with mechanics?” Jisung sounds tired, his voice rough like he had just been sleeping but still upbeat, though Minho knows Jisung hates meeting new people, let alone interacting with them. He’s always only ever been close to his family and good friends, letting them see the real side of him.  


Minho shrugs, “I guess.” He’d picked up a night class on basic engineering last semester because he hadn’t had anything else to do.  


Jisung raises an eyebrow, “I was going to ask you to take a look at my car’s engine light, but if you ‘guess’ you’re good I’m not sure I want you to.”  


The box of board games falls from Minho’s arms, dice and pawns rolling as they hit the cement floor of the garage. Jisung flinches, taking a step back, eyes wide as he searches Minho’s face. “Are you oka—”  


“No,” Minho says, cutting him off. He stares at the ground in shame, unable to meet Jisung’s gaze. He can hardly ride in a car for a long time, let alone drive one. And then to work on one - work on a car _Jisung_ would drive - that’s pure torture even at the idea. “I can’t.”  


“Hey, it’s fine,” Jisung says, voice soft, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”  


Minho hugs himself, all of this becoming too much. He’s teetering on the edge of a panic attack - he hadn’t had one in months but seeing Jisung has made him quickly regress. All he knows is he can’t self-destruct in front of this boy.  


“Um,” poor Jisung, so unknowing. “I’ll leave you be?”  


Minho nods shakily, peeking up at Jisung who for once doesn’t look uncomfortable at a stranger’s show of emotions as he usually does. Stranger - that is what Minho is to him now.  


When he hears Jisung’s footsteps retreating he hurries inside, vowing to clean up the mess later, and lets himself break apart.  


~  


As the day drags on all Minho can think about is Jisung’s visit. He concluded something at least - the only person who knows how hard seeing Jisung would really be for Minho, who is close enough with him to know his weaknesses is Mrs. Han. Jisung’s mother must’ve known that seeing Jisung, paired with him asking about cars, would set him off. It’s no secret that she hates Minho for what he had done to her son.  


So, armed with nothing but the urge to protect, Minho marches across the street just after dinner. Mrs. Han opens the door after several seconds of awful waiting, and her face immediately darkens upon seeing Minho.  


“What are you doing here?”  


Minho flinches at the ice in her tone. “Can I...talk to you? For a few minutes?”  


Mrs. Han purses her lips. “Fine, but Jisung will be home with his father soon and I want you out of my house by the time he gets here.”  


Minho nods shakily, trailing after Mrs. Han when she lets him inside. They end up in the living room, Minho shifting nervously on the balls of his feet while Jisung’s mother stares him down. “I - I wanted to say that I don’t want Jisung near me,” Minho whispers, the words burning his throat. “I don’t want him to be involved in anything concerning me again and you want that too, so please don’t send him over to my house.”  


Mrs. Han nods, “Of course I don’t want my son near you. But I wanted to witness how much it would hurt you to talk to him, to know he’s never going to be yours again.” Her voice is frigid, words ripping Minho apart, tears building up in his eyes. “I wanted you to see what you caused, _what you made him_.”  


“Why can’t you see this is _killing me_?” Minho can’t hold back his sobs, having nothing to hide from this woman. “I hate myself for everything that happened, no matter what other people say I know in my heart that this is all my fault! I know - I know - but using Jisung to hurt me again? I don’t care what you say to me but don’t involve Jisung, he can’t be a part of any of this anymore! I promised myself I would never come near him again - do you understand what that means to me? He was my everything!”  


Mrs. Han steps forward, coming face to face with Minho, his eyes widening. “You deserve all of this, Minho, for what you did to this family. What a devastating _miracle_ it was that you pulled through last summer. And then in September? The fourteenth?” She lowers her voice. “How and why you survived is beyond me.”  


Minho is choking on his tears, hardly able to see past the clouds in his vision. Why did he always make it? It _would_ be better if he was dead—  


“Mom? Minho?”  


Minho shudders, hurriedly rubbing at his face with his sleeves. “Honey?” he hears Mrs. Han call. “I thought you would be out until later?”  


Minho turns around in time to see Jisung flash a confused expression at his mom. When his gaze shifts to Minho his eyes soften and worry paints his features. “Are you…okay?”  


“He’s fine,” Mrs. Han says as Minho nods, “his cat got run over near our house and I invited him in for a drink.”  


Minho blinks, knowing all three of his cats were perfectly safe. Leave it to Mrs. Han to use the other things most precious to him against him. He almost wants to laugh, if his throat didn’t feel so tight.  


“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Jisung says, eyes wide, again weirdly friendly towards a stranger. Maybe the standoffish part of him had changed. “Do you want to sit down? Have something to eat?”  


“No, thank you though, I need to get home,” Minho says, running a shaking hand through his hair, the other pressing against the pendant on his necklace hidden under his shirt.  


“I’ll walk you to the door, then,” Jisung smiles, “c’mon.”  


Mrs. Han retreats into the kitchen as Jisung leads Minho out, closing the door behind them as they walk out onto the porch. “Hey, if you ever need anything feel free to ask, yeah?”  


Minho nods, finding Jisung’s dark eyes and shivering at their intensity. He knows Jisung has figured that something bigger happened than Minho and his mom had let on - he’s scarily insightful. “Thanks, Jisung.”  


Jisung purses his lips, eyebrows furrowing. “I never gave you my name.”  


_Fuck._  


“I’ve run into your mom a couple of times while getting the mail, she mentioned you,” Minho fibs.  


Jisung hums softly, pondering. “How long have you lived here?”  


“A while,” Minho replies, understanding what Jisung is doing. He’s trying to figure out if Minho knew him. Before. “But I never got out much, I didn’t have friends.” That much is true, his only close friend was Jisung. But Jisung was worth more than any number of friends.  


“Okay,” Jisung says, putting on a smile, “sorry for pestering you and everything. But I’m really sorry about your cat, Minho, and I’m not joking - take me up on my offer, we can hang out. I’m pretty good company.”  


Minho laughs quietly, “Yeah, okay.” So fucking screwed.  


“Here, give me your phone.”  


Minho blinks, turning on his phone and pulling up kakaotalk and handing it to Jisung.  


“I just sent a text to make sure we got the right numbers,” Jisung says, smiling when Minho’s phone buzzes, giving it back as a notification from ‘Jisung♪’ pops up. “Awesome. Promise to message me?” Minho nods, slipping his phone into his pocket.  


It’s hard walking away from Jisung, his heart in shambles from Mrs. Han’s words but broken further still by Jisung’s warm smile. The weight of his phone in his hand as he sits on his bed that evening is like a noose around his neck, getting tighter with every second.  


But what can he do? What can he do when he’s so selfish that he wants every second he can possibly have to see Jisung’s smile one more time? 

[Minho✧*] hey  
[Minho✧*] u said to text so here I am texting,,  
[Minho✧*] that sounded way less passive aggressive in my head sorry

[Jisung♪] lmao no worries  
[Jisung♪] yay i was hoping u would message!! Its been three days >:/

[Minho✧*] sry I picked up a few extra hours @ work this week  
[Minho✧*] I’m glad the week is over lol

[Jisung♪] oo where do u work??

[Minho✧*] the office supply store down the road  
[Minho✧*] its pretty chill cause no one ever shops there

[Jisung♪] lmao nice  
[Jisung♪] i got a job at that coffee shop on the corner a few blocks down from our street  
[Jisung♪] im living the cliche - college student working as a barista  
[Jisung♪] o.0

[Minho✧*] lol i’ll have to stop in sometime

[Jisung♪] yes! I mean u could now if ur free, im gonna be off in like half an hour  
[Jisung♪] we can walk home together

[Minho✧*] sure  
[Minho✧*] i’ll be there in twenty  
[Minho✧*] i drink iced coffee btw

[Jisung♪] yAY!!  
[Jisung♪] && lmaooo ill get started on it c:

“I say we play twenty questions while we walk,” Jisung says as they step through the coffee shop door, the bell jingling as it shuts behind them.  


Minho nods, taking a sip from the drink in his hand. “Sure. You start.”  


“Hm, okay. How old are you?”  


Minho’s lips curve up. “Twenty.”  


“I’m eighteen,” Jisung sighs. “I’m always younger! In school I skipped a grade so everyone coddles me ‘cause I’m their dongsaeng. It sucks.”  


Minho snorts, “Sorry about that.”  


Jisung shrugs, fiddling with the coffee cup in his hands. “Whatever. Anyways, your turn.”  


“What’s your major?”  


Jisung’s face lights up. “Music production! I’ve loved music for literally as long as I’ve lived, well I mean...” he trails off, staring at the cement in front of them, their road coming into view.  


“Are you okay?” Minho asks softly. “I’m sorry if I asked anything invasive.”  


“No, no,” Jisung shakes his head. “It’s just that I was in a bad accident last year and I lost a lot of memories. I have amnesia, or so the doctors say. What I mean is my family told me I’ve always loved music. So I guess I have.”  


“I hope you’re okay now,” Minho says, fidgeting with his coffee cup, his blood like ice.  


“I was in a coma for a few days, at least that’s what they told me,” Jisung shrugs, taking a sip of his drink as they come up to Minho’s house, stepping inside the open garage, cold air immediately hitting them. “There were a bunch of things that I didn’t remember when I woke up. Basic things like certain types of food, normal daily stuff. But also memories. It was really scary waking up to that - to be told there were things I had forgotten, people I had forgotten, that I had lost more than half of my life.”  


“H- um, have you remembered it all?” Minho asks, hands shaking as he places his cup on the workbench against the wall, not trusting himself to hold it without spilling the contents everywhere.  


“No.” Jisung lifts himself up to sit on the bench. “I mean a chunk of it, but there’s holes. Like a bunch of my childhood is missing, most of the memories I have revolve around Mom and Dad, a couple about my senior project from high school?” Jisung laughs quietly. “I got my mom to show me recordings of a few of the showcase performances. The songs I wrote were good - I wish I could remember what I was thinking about when I made them.”  


“Yeah?” Minho blinks, pushing away memories of the nights he had spent on Jisung’s floor as the younger boy pieced together beats, hands beyond familiar with the soundboard he loved so much.  


Jisung nods, “There’s one I really like, it’s called Glow?” Jisung sings a few lines. 

_I don’t know another road  
For a long time I have been looking and running to one place  
So where do you want me to go?  
Look at the night sky  
Look at those bright stars  
They shine brighter in the darkness like us_

Minho is frozen, barely breathing as he hears Jisung sing for the first time in a year. Singing their song. Jisung had always been the true music lover out of the pair, but he loved having Minho’s input on his tracks and lyrics, sometimes even recording his voice for small parts. Glow was the song Jisung had written when he was a senior for one of his end of year performances. Minho remembers how Jisung spent hours making the instrumental for Glow the best it could be, bouncing ideas off of the music teacher and fellow students in the production club, and then when Minho came home from uni for the weekend Jisung dragged the older boy out into the Han’s backyard, the pair sitting on the grass underneath the stars. He composed the lyrics there, with Minho’s few additions, naming it Glow because of the starlight that shone down on them through the night.  


Jisung had always called it their song because, as he told Minho, “The stars were beautiful that night but there was one that glowed brighter than all the others, and is the reason this song was written - why it exists.”  


“There’s something I can’t figure out about that song, though,” Jisung says, snapping Minho from his thoughts. “The video I have of me performing it had a couple other classmates singing too, but obviously I have all the original files and in the studio recording there’s a voice that sings two of the verses and some adlibs. I went through the track and all I can get on that voice is the clip name. ‘Lino’ is what I titled the clips of that voice.” Jisung huffs, taking a gulp of coffee. “I went through more of my old tracks after that and in almost all of my songs the ‘Lino’ guy had at least a few lines. I must have been really good friends with him?” Jisung glances over at Minho, face etched with confusion. “I asked my mom if she knew anything but she said it must’ve been one of my old classmates. But I don’t know, there was just something about how my voice sounded when I was singing with him.” Jisung frowns, lost in thought. “There’s emotion in all of my pieces but in tracks like Glow where I sang with him there was something different.”  


Minho feels like he’s seconds away from crying, memories of Jisung slurring his name together when they were little running through his head. Memories of how that name had stuck, memories of how Jisung had handed Minho the lyric sheets to Glow and ushered him into the recording booth at their school with a sunny smile and a “You’ll do great, Lino-hyungie.”  


“Anyways, that’s one of my big mysteries.” Jisung hops down off the bench, tossing his empty cup into the bin against the wall. “I’m sorry if I’m boring you with all this, hyung, I don’t even know if you like music!”  


Minho chuckles, finishing off his drink and chucking it as well. “I used to dance, I was always around music.”  


Jisung’s eyes widen, intrigue filling them. “Did you dance in high school? Maybe I produced something for your team, apparently I did a few tracks for the club.”  


Minho nods, remembering Entrance and School Life. “Yeah, I think so. I was on the team all four years so I must have, since you're just a year under me.”  


Jisung grins, “You’ll have to see if you have any clips, I can send you the list I have of stuff I worked on. I mean, if you wanna.”  


Minho can’t do anything but nod, flashing him a small smile. “Sure.”  


“So do you still dance?” Jisung asks, and Minho wonders if Jisung had really changed so much as to be open with practical strangers. The Jisung he knew came off as rough and unfriendly, only a few people, such as Minho, knowing that he actually just preferred to steer clear of people as they made him anxious.  


“No,” Minho says, fiddling with the rings on his fingers, “I was enrolled in the university you go to as a dance major but I switched over to the local college a year back. Dance...I couldn’t dance anymore, I didn’t have it in me to love it anymore.” _I couldn’t love myself anymore - not without you._  


“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Jisung says, voice soft. “If you’re uncomfortable showing the videos you don’t need to, obviously. I don’t want to force you into anything.”  


“You’re not,” Minho says, glancing over to send Jisung a small smile. “Next time we see each other I’ll bring a few.”  


“Yes!” Jisung cheers with a grin, Minho snorting and rolling his eyes, but not managing to hide his own smile. “Smile more often hyung, it suits you,” Jisung says, winking, before bursting into laughter.  


Minho swats at his shoulder with one hand, touching his burning cheeks with the other. “Yah, don’t wink at me you devil.”  


Jisung sticks out his tongue, poking Minho’s chest. “You’re warming up to me, hyung.”  


Minho rolls his eyes, fighting down a smile. “Sure, sure.”  


“Hey, d’you wanna come over later tonight and order take out at my house or something?” Jisung asks, running a hand through his hair. “My mom’s out for the weekend so you won’t have to deal with whatever beef is between you two.”  


“I...” Minho frowns, mind racing. “There’s nothing between your mother and I.”  


It’s Jisung’s turn to roll his eyes. “She glares at you when she sees you and that time I came home early and she said your cat was run over - I asked your dad the other day when he was mowing your lawn and he said you have three cats, all of whom are indoor pets and very much alive.”  


Minho turns his head away from Jisung, rearranging some pots on the shelf. “It’s nothing.”  


“Hey, I’m not gonna pry, okay?” Jisung’s voice is sincere and Minho can’t help but meet his eyes. “I just want to be friends with you. And if my mom has an issue with that she can deal. So what do you say? About dinner?”  


Minho can’t help the smile forming on his lips. “Does seven work?”  


Jisung’s smile is blinding.  


~  


“Eyy, welcome,” Jisung says when he pulls open the door, stepping aside to let Minho in.  


“Hey,” Minho greets, slipping off his shoes. He looks over Jisung who’s wearing sweatpants and a green hoodie, hair damp from the shower, Minho assumes. Jisung looks tiny, reminding Minho of their actual height difference, and his heart warms at seeing that Jisung is still capable of drowning in his hoodies.  


His hoodies.  


Jisung’s wearing Minho’s hoodie he had gotten his senior year in high school, the school not giving out jackets to the dance crew like they did to the other sports, only hoodies with the name of the school and their last name on the back, the insignia of the crew on the front upper left. Sure enough, when Jisung turns to lead Minho into the living room, ‘Lee’ is printed in big blocky letters above their school’s name.  


Minho’s heart pounds frantically. Does Jisung know? Does Jisung understand that Minho can’t hold up under much more of this pressure and does he know that him showing up in _Minho’s hoodie_ is making it damn-near impossible for Minho to not pin him up against the wall and kiss the living daylights out of him?  


“Ooh you brought them?” Jisung asks, grinning when Minho hands over the thumb drive of his dance videos. “Damn, I’m excited. I even found this hoodie in my closet, I don’t know who’s it is but I guess it belonged to someone on the dance crew.” He gestures at his top. “I mean, you’re a Lee, is it yours?”  


“Nah,” Minho lies settling down in the left corner of the couch where he had always liked to sit, “mines back at my place. Sorry.” Jisung shrugs, shooting him a smile, and crouches down to be level with the coffee table and plugs the drive into his laptop, loading up the files. Minho watches as he hooks up the HDMI, casting his screen to the tv.  


The first video is from Minho’s junior year, Jisung’s sophomore. Jisung had already joined the producing team at their school, being the youngest as he had been accepted in as a freshman which was very rare, plus he was a year younger than his peers. The dance was fast-paced, the seven boys dressed in black as they moved around the stage, the beat of Entrance booming through the speakers.  


“That’s my song!” Jisung cheers at the end. “And holy shit, hyung, you’re an amazing dancer!” Minho blushes fiercely, smiling shyly at Jisung. A couple hours pass as they go through Minho’s videos and Jisung shows him several of his own performances from high school, unknowing that Minho had been to every one of them, and Jisung had been to each of his dance showcases. It was torture for him but seeing Jisung smile when Minho complimented him was worth it.  


They ordered a pizza at some point, Minho insisting on paying for it, much to Jisung’s dismay. They shared stories as they sat together on the couch eating, talking about anything and everything. Jisung’s personality hadn’t changed, Minho had realized early on, he was still the sweet, protective yet aloof, insanely talented boy he had always been.  


When the leftovers had been put away Jisung led Minho back into the living room, crouching down to look at the screen of his laptop as Minho slides back onto the couch.  


“Um,” for the first time this evening Jisung looks truly shy. “I wanna show you something, if you would like.”  


“Yeah, sure,” Minho says, never one to refuse Jisung.  


Jisung flashes him a small smile, pulling a file up onto the screen. “I want to show you the first song I wrote after the accident. I - I wasn’t in the best place for a while and didn’t write, to be honest I had forgotten how. But I made myself go to classes, and I found some guys in the music department who produced too - Chan-hyung and Changbin-hyung. Changbin-hyung’s in my grade but obviously a year older and Chan-hyung is a junior, well, basically a senior now. Anyways, they helped me break through whatever was stopping me from writing again and I created this song, the lyrics that is - we all worked on the instrumental and recorded together. Anyways, it’s called Placebo.”  


He glances once more at Minho who gives him a smile before clicking play.  


The instrumental is something Minho hadn’t ever heard from one of Jisung’s works before, but he likes it. As they listen Jisung’s voice fills the silent room. 

_I’m doing good, I’m doing fine  
I’m doing well, I’m doin’ alright  
Trust me, believe it or not  
I’m doing well, I’ll keep pushing forward  
But I worry sometimes  
What if everything I’ve done so far isn’t real?  
How does it feel?  
I won’t believe it, even if what I’ve done so far is just a placebo  
Placebo effect  
In fact, I know it has no effect, yet I let myself get deceived  
While I’m not confident, they keep deceiving me  
They pretend to give me medication and then tell me I’ll get inspired  
Living in a hallucination  
The world I live in will become a reality  
I know it’s difficult and frustrating  
I don’t know that it’s okay the drug when it’s all just a lie_

A second voice cuts in, one of Jisung’s friends. 

_‘Cuz later when I become addicted to life  
Even though the medicine I take when I’m sick has no effect  
It still comforts me in another way, and makes me want to fly  
Going up towards the sun, yeah  
It’s all up in my mind  
Please deceive me this time_

Minho zones out through the rest of the track. The song is beautiful but haunting, in a way terrifying. Was - is Jisung as lost as the lyrics suggest? Does he believe that he’s living in something false? Is he wondering if this new life, free of his past, will become his reality? That all of his memories are a hallucination given to him by the people who care for him?  


“So, what do you think?” Jisung asks when the song ends, nervously running a hand through his hair.  


Minho watches his eyes flick nervously from Minho’s face to his laptop. He realizes that Jisung has just shown Minho, a boy he hardly knows, something deeply valuable and personal. This song isn’t just another great track, this is Jisung’s struggles painted out clear as day.  


“I think you’re insanely talented,” Minho says, watching a pink flush grow on Jisung’s cheeks.  


“Thanks,” he mutters, “I’ve improved a lot since then, I obviously had to relearn some stuff? So my rapping wasn’t as good, but I’m a lot better now, I’ve got some more stuff I ca—”  


“Jisung.”  


Jisung looks up, eyes wide. “Yeah?”  


Minho takes a breath. “Are you okay?”  


It’s almost like a wall comes up around Jisung when the words leave Minho’s mouth. His eyes darken, lips pressing into a thin line. “What makes you ask that?”  


Minho’s lips part, having never seen Jisung turn so cold, at least not to him. As much as he doesn’t want to lose him, Jisung had just shown Minho something that scared him. “Jisung, no one writes lyrics like that unless they’re trying to process or get through something. You don’t know me, I get that, but I’m the last one who would judge you about anything.”  


Minho lets out a puff of air when Jisung’s expression doesn’t change. So he does the only thing he can think of. “A year ago I hurt someone I cared about more than anything in this world. They were okay, but our lives wouldn’t be the same. I spent every waking moment for months wondering what I could have done differently, and believed myself to be some kind of terrible monster. I dropped out of university because that person was the one soul on this planet that really believed I could make it - be who I wanted to be. But I lost contact with that person and gave up any shred of hope I had left for myself. So yeah. I’m a washed-out twenty-year-old with dried up ambition. And the thing is, even if I wanted to start again I can’t make it without that person. Maybe I’m a coward for not going to find them but I know that in some way I’ll hurt them again. I would rather live without them if it promised them happiness.” Minho takes a breath, meeting Jisung’s wide eyes. “I know you won’t judge me Jisung, not when what you wrote screams at how lost you are as well.”  


Jisung bites his bottom lip, pulling his knees to his chest. “I’ve spent an entire year trying to rebuild someone that I don’t know. I’ve spent a year not knowing who I am, Minho-hyung. It’s exhausting and scary, half the time I feel like I’m living in someone else’s body. I want to be able to be whole again, I want to feel human.” There are tears in Jisung’s eyes when he looks up at Minho. “I - I want to feel happy again, truly happy. Not a happiness that I have to force.”  


As tears roll down Jisung’s cheeks Minho’s own eyes begin to water and he slides off the couch, kneeling right in front of Jisung. He reaches out a hand, a jolt of electricity running through him when Jisung takes it, small fingers interlocking with his own. Jisung’s hair is messy and dark eyes glossy, cheeks dotted with glistening tears, but he’s the most beautiful thing Minho has seen in a long, long time. He parts his lips, blinking up at Minho. “Why is it I don’t feel like I’m forcing anything with you?”  


Minho’s chest tightens at Jisung’s words and he’s unable to speak. _Why is it I don’t feel like I’m forcing anything with you?  
_

__

__

_Why is it?_  


_Why?_  


_It’s because part of you still remembers me._  


~  


The evening becomes light again when Jisung turns on some documentary, curling up on the couch and making sure to send Minho the occasional smile. Something’s changed between them - a trust of sorts has been formed, bringing them closer. Minho doesn’t know if that’s good or bad, but he’s too far in to run now.  


Half way through the show Jisung falls asleep, head lolling back against the pillows, pink lips parted. Minho smiles as he looks at the boy, selfishly hoping that his time with Jisung, his second chance, won’t be taken away. Not when something fragile is growing between them again.  


Remembering how Jisung would always complain about his sore back if they fell asleep on the couch Minho carefully picks Jisung up, one arm going to support Jisung’s upper back and the other hooking underneath his knees. Déjà vu hits him hard as he looks down at the boy, his familiar face soft with sleep. Minho can remember a moment just like this when Jisung had passed out during an anime marathon, his orange hair that had grown out more than usual falling in front of his closed eyes as Minho picked him up and carried him upstairs.  


Jisung looks the same, well, maybe a bit older as the contours of his face had become a bit more defined, and his hair is no longer that bright, attention-catching color, instead a soft blond, far from platinum but not near brown. He’s still tiny in Minho’s arms - Minho had never been super tall but Jisung had always had to look up to meet his eyes. Jisung’s gotten a bit more muscular in the past year, Minho had noticed, but it hasn’t changed his naturally small frame. Aside from his physical features there’s no doubt that the traits and talents Minho had loved so much still live in the boy in his arms. Maybe Jisung had started a second life but the essence of the old him is still there.  


Minho carries Jisung to his room slowly, careful on the stairs knowing they are prone to creaking. Jisung’s door is partially open so he pushes it further still with his foot, weaving through the piles of textbooks and clothes to Jisung’s bed - a tangle of blankets and masses of pillows. He sets Jisung down carefully, hauling the synthesizer and microphones off the foot of his bed so he doesn’t knock them off in his sleep.  


“God, Jisung, you haven’t changed,” he whispers, glancing around the room. It’s how he remembers it - the closet overflowing with clothes and music sheets stacked high on top of his dresser. There’s piles of random stuff and production equipment on the floor, making it hard to walk, and his tv on the wall still has the crack Minho had made when he and Jisung were playfighting and he had smashed his elbow against it, resulting in a massive bruise and an apologetic Jisung. The only thing different about the room is that all the pictures and gadgets Jisung and Minho had collected together over the years are gone.  


Any trace of Minho had been destroyed.  


Heaving a sigh Minho turns back to Jisung, smiling as the boy grumbles in his sleep, flinging an arm out and whacking a pair of headphones onto the floor. Rolling his eyes Minho bends to pick them up, setting them on top of the synthesizer.  


“I don’t even know why I’m bothering because you always manage to kick them off,” Minho mutters as he pulls at Jisung’s blankets, tucking them around the younger, smiling when Jisung frowns and kicks at the new weight, his foot ending up hanging off the bed, free of the blanket. Minho chuckles, not bothering to hide the obvious adoring look that must be on his face. “You are a hazard when you sleep,” he whispers, brushing the hair off of his forehead. He wants badly to press a kiss to Jisung’s cheek as he always did but refrains, reminding himself that things are different. This boy isn’t the boy who was his best friend, his love. This is Han Jisung, a soon-to-be sophomore in college, visiting his family for the summer. This Jisung isn’t Minho’s.  


“Sleep well,” Minho murmurs, fingertips gliding over the curve of Jisung’s soft cheek before he turns and walks away from the boy, who no matter who he is now, he still loves with all his heart.  


~  
[Jisungie♪] YAH HYUNG  
[Jisungie♪] WHERED U GO

[Minho-hyung✧*] u fell asleep so I went home

[Jisungie♪] you shouldve stayed on the couch or smth!!  
[Jisungie♪] (also thx for bringing me upstairs)

[Minho-hyung✧*] no offense but ur couch looks like it would kill my back  
[Minho-hyung✧*] & i didn’t want to impose  
[Minho-hyung✧*] (no problem)

[Jisungie♪] :(  
[Jisungie♪] u owE mE 

[Minho-hyung✧*] for leaving??!?!?

[Jisungie♪] ;) ye  
[Jisungie♪] c’mon, lets go to the movies today

Minho had decided a long time ago that Jisung is unfairly beautiful. And right now as they’re walking to the theater side by side, Jisung practically glowing in the evening sunlight, Minho’s reminded of that epiphany.  


“Thanks for hanging out with me again,” Jisung says, smiling up at Minho, his eyeliner making his large eyes stand out more than they already do. _Since when has Han Jisung worn eyeliner?_  


“I didn’t mean to abandon you,” Minho counters, “I didn’t think you would want me around so much.”  


Jisung snorts, looping their arms. The gesture makes Minho’s heart stop but he forces himself to continue walking. “From this moment forth I’m gonna start bullying you to spend the rest of the summer with me, hyung.”  


“Wow, way to kick-start a friendship,” Minho chuckles, Jisung whacking his arm while giggling along.  


But it’s fair to say very little bullying needed to happen. Jisung broke through every barrier Minho had put up over the past year as each day together passed. Jisung had grown accustomed to taking the bus with Minho, somehow understanding his fear of cars, instead sitting side by side while sharing a pair of earbuds. They have now spent hours talking about their lives over pints of ice cream and scrabble games, laughing until they cry. Minho has shown Jisung all the spots around town that people their age tend to hang out at but somehow has managed to avoid anyone who had known them, determined to start fresh with Jisung.  


Somehow they also had learned how to get around Jisung’s parents, Jisung only inviting Minho over when they were out or at work. Minho had cautiously let Jisung come over to his own house a few times, keeping him out of his room where there were pictures of them stacked on the floor that he had taken down but didn’t have the heart to throw out. Minho’s parents hadn’t understood why Minho is hiding his past but they agreed to go along with it, telling Minho that they trust him to do the right thing.  


The Lees had always adored Jisung so they easily accepted him again, inviting him over for dinner a few times, always greeting him with a hug. Jisung seemed a bit wary at first but quickly warmed to them as well. But most often Jisung and Minho would wander the streets, talking, or Minho would watch Jisung scribble down lyrics under the shade of the trees in the nearby park. Jisung had an adorable habit of tapping out rhythms unknowingly, usually resulting in his fingers timing beats against Minho’s thigh, which the older boy didn’t mind.  


Summer is passing quickly and Minho had guiltily started wishing it wouldn’t end.  


~  
[Jisungie♪] heya hyung  
[Jisungie♪] will u be a literal angel & grab me coffee if u arent busy  
[Jisungie♪] a song’s kept me up all night nd i need a fix to keep going :( 

[Minho-hyung✧*] yeah sure  
[Minho-hyung✧*] what do u want? 

[Jisungie♪] latte  
[Jisungie♪] thank u so much ilu for this  
[Jisungie♪] the front doors unlocked so just come up 

“Hey,” Minho greets, stepping inside Jisung’s room. Jisung’s parents were out, the boy keeping to his promise of only inviting Minho over when they were out of the picture.  


“You’re a life-saver,” Jisung groans when Minho crouches down next to him in the middle of the floor, handing over the coffee. Jisung’s still working, his laptop and soundboard spread out in front of him.  


“What are you working on?” Minho asks, sitting cross legged when Jisung pats the ground next to him.  


Jisung takes a gulp of the drink, “I’ve had an idea for a song in my head for like a week now, I broke down and decided to work on it the day before last because apparently your job has kept you too busy to hang out with me,” he complains teasingly, shoving Minho’s knee. “I’ve got most of the instrumental done, I skyped Chan-hyung to ask for tips and he said it was good. I’ve been recording a guide for it all morning, last night I couldn’t sleep because of lyric ideas but I can’t record anything because of my parents, obviously,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Back at uni Changbin-hyung lets me record at night - he’s either doing his own work or at his boyfriend’s, which is great for me.”  


“Wait, Changbin’s your roommate?” Minho asks.  


Jisung nods. “Yeah, it’s sometimes awkward around the other freshies since I’m younger but he was really chill and nice. He was the one to introduce Chan-hyung and I. His boyfriend, Felix, is actually one of my really close friends - he’s my age, so still a senior which means we don’t see each other too much, but luckily he and several of his friends got into our uni. He and Hyunjin are gonna be dance majors and Seungmin’s vocal. Maybe you can meet them someday, they’re all great people, really talented. Felix said he might actually come visit me sometime soon if he gets a chance.”  


Minho watches Jisung ramble, the boy playing with his hoodie strings as he talks. “I would like that,” he hears himself saying, and doesn’t regret it when Jisung grins up at him.  


“Want to listen to the song?” Jisung asks, gesturing to his laptop. “I’m going to bug the high school and see if they’ll let me use their equipment since the building’s still open for summer classes. I need to record a proper guide, then when I go back to school I’ll have the gang re-record a studio version. They all have great voices.”  


“Show me,” Minho pleads teasingly, “don’t make me beg.”  


Jisung laughs, eyes curving into crescents. “Okay, but don’t ask about my inspiration for it, ‘cause I don’t know exactly what it is myself.”  


He clicks play and Minho falls into the slow, sentimental-sounding track. 

_Remember the first day we met  
A shy smile and the pouring sunlight  
I was able to tell just from your gaze  
That we’re one  
That we’re one  
That you’re me_

__

__

_Whenever you smile, whenever it’s hard for you  
I’ll always protect you  
For you  
I can go against time  
So that I can appear in front of you  
I believe, I believe  
Even if the world changes, can you promise that we won’t change?_

_At this beautiful place  
All the memories where I loved you  
Will become a neverending story  
It’ll shine_

_Never say goodbye  
Because we are one  
Because we will walk together in the same dream  
Continue smiling by my side just like this moment  
I’ll love you further than tomorrow and longer than forever_

_Although saying “I love you” might be a little obvious  
I can’t save those words with you ‘cause I care about you most in the world  
Tomorrow is just for you, I wait for tomorrow for you  
Create a story that won’t end the whole day with an ending like the title_

_Continue smiling by my side just like this moment  
My love, further than tomorrow and longer than forever_

_Never say goodbye  
Because we are one  
Because we will walk together in the same dream  
Continue smiling by my side just like this moment  
I’ll love you further than tomorrow and longer than forever_

Minho can’t breathe and he realizes it’s because his hand is clamped over his mouth, stifling his sobs. Jisung exits the track, expressionless, but his eyes grow wide when he sees Minho, the older boy’s cheeks wet with tears, chest heaving as he cries into his hand. “Hyung!”  


Minho lets Jisung pull his hand away, scooting close and pressing on the back of Minho’s neck so his forehead is resting against Jisung’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Jisung whispers, arms circling Minho’s waist, “I’m sorry I made you cry.”  


Minho sniffles, shaking his head. It’s not Jisung’s fault that he’s so weak.  


“This trip home is different,” Jisung whispers, “I just - I feel something that I didn’t when I came home before over the holidays. It makes my chest ache, whatever it is. I...I mean I have an idea of what changed this time around, and I guess it’s not that I’m unsure about it. It’s that I don’t want to hope that I’m right. Stupid, huh?”  


“No,” Minho says, closing his eyes and breathing in Jisung’s familiar scent, “it’s not. Hope is a precious thing.”  


Jisung hums, increasing the pressure of their hug before pulling away. His face is soft with concern as he runs his thumbs over Minho’s cheeks, wiping away his tears. “I was scared I did something wrong, that I hurt you in some way,” he says, not looking Minho in the eyes.  


Minho takes Jisung’s wrists, pulling his hands away from his face. “You haven’t done anything wrong. I just got wrapped up in the lyrics. You have a talent for making people feel emotions from your music.”  


Jisung blushes lightly, shy. “Thank you.”  


Minho smiles, squeezing his hand. “So what’s with you and not sleeping? You’ve blown up my phone a few nights in a row with memes of cats.”  


“First of all, I thought you would appreciate the cats,” Jisung pouts. He had quickly fallen in love with Minho’s cats after the first visit to his house but with that bond Minho couldn’t help but think about the distrust Jisung must have felt towards his mother. “Second, I’ve been having weird dreams that wake me up.”  


“What about?” Minho asks. “I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”  


Jisung shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing. “I’ve been having them since I came back but they’ve been getting more frequent. They’re blurry but in some of them I hear this person talking, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. But then I also have these dreams where it feels like I’m flying - not in a good way. I wake up feeling like I wanna throw up.” Jisung grimaces. He looks up at Minho, eyes blank. “However distorted, I can’t help but think they’re memories, hyung.”  


For the second time in just minutes Minho finds that he can’t breathe. He had resigned himself to thinking that Jisung wouldn’t ever get his memories back, it wasn’t even a possibility to him anymore. But - but…If by some chance Jisung did remember something would he hate Minho if Minho was what he remembered? Would he hate Minho for the accident? Or would he hate Minho for feeding him the pills to his placebo life?  


Then again, would the memories even be of Minho? Does he want them to be?  


“Minho-hyung, what is it?”  


Jisung’s hand touches his and he’s pulled from his spiraling thoughts. Jisung’s eyes are worried when they meet his, large and soft and the comforting brown that Minho has known all his life. The chain around Minho’s neck feels heavy as he stares at the boy in front of him - the boy who is everything but has to be nothing. The boy who is shy to a point where he comes off rude but is the sweetest person on the planet. The boy who is so beautiful and so strong. The boy Minho has known for ten years. The boy who he’s loved for every second of those ten long years.  


He’s crying again, crying silently while staring at Jisung. Jisung who stares back, fingers wiping tears from his cheeks. Jisung’s seen him cry too many times and Minho hates himself for it - but what can he do? Nothing. Not when he’s lost the Jisung of the past, not when he doesn’t know what else to do besides keep loving him, no matter who he is now.  


“You’re thinking about that person, right?” Jisung whispers, cupping Minho’s cheek. “The one you hurt?”  


Minho nods.  


There’s a faint smile on Jisung’s lips. “I think wherever they are they miss you, hyung. Just as much as you miss them.”  


~  


A few weeks later Felix shows up on Jisung’s doorstep with a wide grin and a bag hoisted over his shoulder. Minho had been there, cautiously peeking into the hall when he heard Jisung’s scream and then a thud, finding both boys on the ground in a tight hug. He couldn’t help but smile.  


“Lixie, this is Minho-hyung, hyung, this is Felix,” Jisung had introduced, sun in his smile when they shook hands.  


“So this is the guy you’ve been spam texting me about for weeks, huh,” Felix had said over hamburgers and milkshakes at the local diner later that day. Jisung had flushed red, throwing the canister of napkins at Felix and not daring to look up at Minho for the rest of the meal.  


Minho liked Felix, he was hyper and fun while pretty insightful as well. The boy loved dance and talked about it almost as much as Jisung talked about music. In some ways it made Minho miss it more but Felix was so passionate that Minho felt something like pride come to him when the boy who was quickly growing on him spoke about his performances. Minho would like to think that he and Felix were becoming friends, especially when Jisung made a group chat with both of them. The younger two texted constantly, but still kept the conversation open enough so that Minho could jump in if he wanted.  


Minho did miss having time alone with Jisung - since Felix was staying at Jisung’s the two were almost always together. So it came as a bit of a relief when Felix announced he was going to leave in a couple of days.  


~  


“I’m going to get changed and then let’s head to the theater,” Jisung shouts down the stairs one afternoon close to Felix’s departure. Once Jisung’s footsteps recede Felix turns to Minho, fixing him with an intimidating gaze.  


“Are you going to ask him out?”  


Minho flushes red, heart jumping. “What?”  


Felix rolls his eyes. “Oh come on, you trail after him like a puppy. I mean Jisung can obviously date whoever but I like you.”  


“Uh...thanks,” Minho squeaks, blush not receding.  


“He’s an important person,” Felix says, voice growing soft. “He’s delicate, he’s been hurt in more ways than one. And you know that so treat him right.”  


“Of course,” Minho whispers.  


“You haven’t seen him break down,” Felix says, the words far from a question, “have you.” When Minho stares at him, confused, Felix sighs and continues. “Jisungie’s obviously had it rough. He had to literally jump into a life that he doesn’t remember. He used to show up at my house at night sobbing, saying over and over ‘Why did this have to happen to me?’ He told me that he couldn’t be this musical prodigy everyone said he was, not when he didn’t know himself.”  


Felix leans back against the counter, crossing his arms. “A couple days after he came back here for the summer he texted me and said he felt like something was changing inside of him - that he was feeling more alive than he had in a long time. He also told me it wasn’t because of his family.” Felix raises an eyebrow, looking Minho over. “Then a few weeks later I got a file titled ‘Neverending Story,’ something he wants us to record when we all get back to campus. I know you’ve heard the guide.” Minho nods, feeling trapped. “I think you also know it’s about you.”  


Minho freezes up, gnawing at his lip as Felix stares him down. “You knew Sungie before the accident, didn’t you?”  


There’s no point in hiding anything from this boy who seems to have all the answers himself. “Yes. I did.”  


Felix hums, “You’re Lino, the guy who sang in Jisung’s old tracks.” Minho nods. “Why haven’t you told him?”  


Minho looks away, not knowing how to respond. Denying feels right, but at the same time he doesn’t want to keep lying, he wants to be able to have someone to confide in. But does he deserve that?  


“Hey, you guys ready?”  


Minho and Felix turn, meeting Jisung’s bright smile. “Yeah,” Felix grins, sending Minho a small look as he walks by, not filled with anger, but something akin to pity. It makes his stomach turn over.  


“I hope you didn’t bite each other’s heads off while I was gone,” Jisung teases as they walk out to the car. “What do you think of my Lixie now that you’ve gotten to know him, hyung?”  


Minho smiles, “I think you two have very similar personalities.”  


“Yah, what does that mean?” Felix huffs while Jisung giggles, eyes sparkling as they meet Minho’s.  


~  


Minho’s world crashes down about a week after Felix had gone back home. Jisung had invited him over so Minho goes up to the boy’s room, collapsing on his bed when Jisung doesn’t show. He drifts in and out of sleep, exhausted from binging movies the night before.  


The bed dips as Jisung lays beside him, the warmth of his body pressing up against Minho’s side, it’s comfortable, really comfortable. “Who said you could sleep here?” he asks, but his voice is far from angry.  


“Me, when my eyes closed,” Minho grumbles back, making Jisung laugh.  


“C’mon, I wanna ask you something,” Jisung says, pulling at Minho’s arm and forcing him to sit upright against the headboard. When Minho gestures for him to continue, Jisung nods, sending him a shaky smile.  


“I was thinking about the accident I was in,” Jisung starts off and Minho is instantly wide awake. “I was so mad after it happened that I didn’t bother to try and figure out more of my past. But I had these random flashes of memories of a boy. At least that’s what I think they are. I don’t remember anything about him, just the tone and pitch of his voice.” Minho’s hands start to shake. “And then last night I was down in the basement trying to clean some of the crap out for my mom when I found this box.” He grabs a large cardboard box from the floor and hands it to Minho. “Take a look.”  


Minho takes it, glancing up at Jisung, eyebrows furrowed. When Jisung’s calculating expression doesn’t change Minho puts the box down in front of him and looks inside.  


His heart drops when he sees that the box is full of all the photos of the two of them together that had been on Jisung’s walls, all of the jewelry and random figurines that Minho had bought Jisung over the years - every bit of anything that Minho had touched had been piled into this container of cardboard. All their memories.  


Everything.  


The whole box has been rifled through so Minho knows Jisung has seen all of it.  


He has seen their past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glow [Stray Kids]  
> Placebo [3RACHA]  
> Entrance [Stray Kids]  
> School Life [Stray Kids]  
> Neverending Story [Stray Kids]
> 
> ~ 
> 
> [tumblr](https://wasatch-97.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/eclipse.134340/?hl=en)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how to feel about this chapter but I know I despise myself for making Minho cry and hurt as much as I did 
> 
> **Also, there's a graphic scene about the accident at the very end, please watch out for that**

“Minho-hyung?” 

Minho realizes he has zoned out, staring down at the box. 

“Hyung, look at me.” He raises his head, looking into Jisung’s dark eyes, worry and confusion glimmering in them. “I know this must be hard - given what is in that box - but I need you to tell me everything. I deserve that much.” 

Minho nods shakily. He knows deep down that this would’ve come out at some point but he was hoping it wouldn’t be now. But Jisung is right, he deserves an explanation. “Sit here,” he rasps, pointing to the foot of the bed. Jisung scoots over, sitting cross legged in front of him. “God—fuck,” Minho buries his face in his hands, trembling. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jisung soothes, voice calm. “Just start at the beginning, ‘kay?” 

“Yeah, okay,” Minho takes a deep breath. “So...if you went through that box you know we’ve known each other - knew each other,” Minho focuses all his attention on the comforter. “W-We met when you were in second grade and I was in fourth, you hadn’t skipped a grade yet. When I was younger the other guys in my class teased me a lot for liking to dance, they would trip me up, stuff like that. One time we had this mixed recess with other grades and the guys who bullied me were shoving me around and out of nowhere a kid with puffy cheeks and massive eyes came up to the biggest guy and said ‘It’s not nice to hurt people, in fact it makes you a bitch’ and punched the guy straight in the face, gave him a broken nose. The whole schoolyard went absolutely silent because someone had said a swear word,” he laughs softly. “Then the teachers came and we were all rushed off to the principal’s office. The kid said he wasn’t sorry because ‘the boy who looked like a cat’ didn’t deserve it. That’s how we met.” 

When Minho looks up Jisung appears to be caught between wanting to laugh and a ridiculously fond smile. “That - that’s so cute what the hell,” Minho can’t help but smile as well. “My mom said I was a loner though?” 

Minho’s smile fades. There really isn’t any point to hiding anything anymore. “Yeah, neither of us were particularly social but whatever your mom has told you about how you thought of people I was always the exception. We were always together, even more so at school when you skipped that grade. In high school I joined the dance team and you started producing music so we met some different people, but when it came down to it we were closer than anyone. I mean, half of your closet was at my house and I kept a spare retainer at yours.” 

“Wow,” Jisung murmurs, looking deep in thought. “How the hell did I forget? Even with the accident you would think some of those memories would remain.” 

Minho shrugs. “I ask myself that every fucking day.” His words silence Jisung and he bites his lip. “Sorry.” 

“No, they’re your memories, they’re yours to remember,” Jisung says quietly, “even if I can’t.” Minho doesn’t reply and Jisung sighs. “Continue?” 

“Well, you always told me to follow my dreams so I decided to go to an arts school and study dance. My first year was really hard because the college was a few hours away from you so we were both elated when you applied and got in. We had so many plans for the next year - hell, we were going to rent an apartment together. But at the beginning of August it all went to shit.” 

Jisung hums for Minho to continue and he takes a long breath. “The accident that cost you your memories...I was the one driving that car.” 

“But they said I was the only one in the vehicle?” There’s confusion written across Jisung’s face. “I was the only one in the car and I was coming home from the store and got hit by a speeder. I went over a bank, the car flipped.” 

Minho shakes his head, trying to focus on anything other than Jisung’s eyes. “We - we had been out all day on a trip, I was driving us home. The rest of it is right.” 

“Why would I be lied to?” Jisung asks, voice scarily quiet. “Hyung?” 

“I - I wasn’t in a position to contradict your parents,” Minho breathes, “if I - you would have known if things had been different.” _If I had been allowed to see you._

Jisung purses his lips. “Can you tell me about that day?” 

Minho takes a shaky breath, nodding. This is for Jisung, he would only ever relive it for Jisung. “It was going to be a great day, we had all of it planned out. We got up early, packed everything in your car. We were going to the lake we had discovered a few years back, it’s all hidden in this forest area so no one really knows about it. It was our spot.” Minho plays with the hem of his shirt. “We went swimming and had lunch, we had brought spare clothes, thank god,” Jisung snickers quietly. “And then I got brave,” Minho presses his lips together, looking into the box. It wasn’t hard to find it. “I confessed - told you I loved you, that you were everything to me, that you were the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.” He holds up Jisung’s necklace, the thin chain supporting a silver heart. It’s something that he hasn’t touched in so long. He meets the unknowing owner’s wide eyes. “I gave you this promise of sorts. The thing is, everyone knew we were in love. Hell, we knew, but were just too afraid to say anything, do something to change our friendship. But there was no chance that you would have ever said no to being with me.” 

Minho wraps his hand around the jewelry, eyes closing. “The two and a half hours after the confession were the best moments of my life. We were so _happy_. I wonder sometimes if I would have confessed if I knew you were only going to wear this necklace for those two and a half goddamn hours.” 

“Hyung...” 

Minho’s fingers shake and he squeezes the necklace tight. “We were on our way home, the sun was setting. You had the stereo and were playing some sort of edm track, we were holding hands. I kept playing with your rings and you kept laughing, I was _so fucking in love._ ” Minho squeezes his eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath. “You were looking at me - smiling - so happy. And we were falling.” 

Minho drops the necklace in the box, covering his face with his hands. “You didn’t scream as we went down that fucking bank, you just looked at me and squeezed my hand and said ‘Don’t let go of me.’” Minho is crying harder than he has in a long time, his chest burning, memories of Jisung’s frightened face flashing in front of his vision. “I swear to god I didn’t let you go, Jisung, when I came around we were still holding hands and I didn’t let go. Not through those fucking long minutes where we were pinned and you didn’t wake up and I thought we were going to die.” Minho presses the heels of his palms against his eyes. “My arm was broken in two places and I could barely hold on to your hand but I _didn’t let you go_. Not until the paramedics made me.” 

“I was such a bitchy patient,” he croaks, letting out a muffled laugh, “I didn’t let them touch me until I saw that you were in an ambulance, that you were safe. They were so pissed at me, but what did that matter?” Minho rubs at his eyes. “When I got to the hospital they said I broke an arm and a leg, had a minor concussion, and some of the door curved in and sliced my side open. And then the glass shard stuff that we both had. I told them I wouldn’t have anything stitched or set until they told me if you were okay. They couldn’t talk me out of it so eventually one of your nurses showed up and said that your airbag hadn’t deployed but you were okay, but there was neuro trauma. I didn’t know what the hell that meant but by then the doctors had had enough of me and knocked me out. They did the best they could to patch me up but some things don’t go away.” Minho drags the hem of his shirt up just enough for Jisung to see the scarring on his side, the result of the metal door. Jisung’s eyes widen, taking a shaky breath. 

Minho lets his shirt fall back into place, “When I woke up our families were there and it was pure chaos. My dad was crying and my mom was actively hunting through the hospital for the guy who had hit us. I made them put me in a wheelchair and wheel me into your room since I couldn’t really walk yet, and I sat with you. I found out you were comatose from hitting your head hard on part of the door frame that got bent in. I asked what would happen when you woke up and they said they didn’t know. I held your hand and told you I loved you and that I was so fucking sorry. They told me later that it wasn’t my fault, that the other driver was speeding, but it was - it was, especially in that moment.” Minho pushes back his hair, eyes closing. Part of him feels relief at finally getting the story off his chest - finally telling Jisung the truth - but a bigger part of him is filled with fear. “So, you got your real story, Jisung.” 

There’s a small sniffle and Minho’s eyes open, but before he can question it Jisung has wrapped his arms around him, pulling Minho into a tight hug, head buried in his neck. “Jisung?” 

“I - I never knew any of that, why didn’t I know?” Jisung is shaking, his tears dampening Minho’s skin. 

“Shh,” Minho whispers, petting his hair, the warmth from holding Jisung again calming him, even as he cries. He feels sick to his stomach - he had expected Jisung to yell, maybe even tell him he was lying. He doesn’t know if Jisung crying is any better than being called a liar. 

Jisung draws back just slightly, large eyes glossy with tears and bottom lip wobbling. “Why didn’t I know? Why didn’t you stay? Did you keep caring? Why did no one tell me you existed? Why were you gone? If you loved me so much why weren’t you here for me? Did you?” 

Minho shudders, ignoring the tears slipping down his cheeks. He tugs at the chain around his neck, pulling it out from under his shirt. Jisung gasps, touching the silver heart pendant that matches the one Minho had slipped back into the box. “Hyung?” 

“A year has gone by and there hasn’t been a day where I’ve taken it off,” Minho whispers, Jisung’s eyes crinkling up as tears slip down his cheeks. “Whether I’m a stranger to you or not I’m always g-going to be in love with you, Jisung. I’m just selfish enough to never let you go.” 

Jisung’s eyes widen, tears like diamonds running down his cheeks. “Minho—” 

Minho carefully moves Jisung off of him, standing up on shaky legs. “I’m sorry that this was kept from you - that I kept it from you.” Jisung’s lips are parted, eyes wide and cheeks stained with tears as he stares up at Minho and the older boy knows he has to leave before he loses his sanity. “I’m so sorry, Jisung.” 

He turns to leave, walking across the floor and reaching for the door handle. Before he can turn it arms wrap around his waist and Jisung presses up against his back. Minho takes a shaky breath, frozen in place. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Jisung whispers, voice cracking, “I - I have questions and I’m so confused and we both need time to process,” He rests his forehead in between Minho’s shoulder blades, voice wobbling. “But...I don’t know what to think, I just know that I - I don’t want you to leave.” 

Minho turns around, Jisung’s arms dropping from his waist. Jisung looks so vulnerable, fear and confusion and hopelessness reflecting in his eyes. “Jisung...I’ve lied to you for half of the summer. I have to come to terms with all of that. I just - I need time.” 

Jisung nods, pressing his lips together. “Alright, but text me? Please?” 

“Okay,” Minho whispers. “I...okay.” 

~ 

Minho falls asleep the second he gets home and dreams of hugs and kisses and Jisung’s smile only to be jolted awake by the scrape of metal and a sense of horrific vertigo. 

He drifts in and out of sleep for the rest of the afternoon and evening, ignoring his parents’ calls when dinner was ready. He forces himself to keep his mind blank, to just stare at the ceiling in silence. His phone goes off a few times but he ignores it, not wanting to see who the messages were from. 

Around midnight Minho can’t do it anymore - what exactly he doesn’t know - but he pulls himself out of bed and creeps down the hallway and to the stairs, somehow managing to make it to the kitchen without making noise. He grabs a cup from one of the cabinets, pouring himself a glass of water and chugging it down, soothing his sore throat. 

He sets the cup down, running his hands through his hair. Unbidden, Jisung’s face comes to mind, how he had looked so lost earlier. Minho’s heart crumbles. 

“Honey?” 

“Mom?” Minho’s mother is standing in the doorway, a concerned look on her face. “Did I wake you?” 

She shakes her head. “No, I hadn’t fallen asleep and I saw the light come on. Are you okay?” 

Minho doesn’t know what to say. His family has had to watch him tear himself apart over the last year, which adds more guilt to the already overflowing count. He hasn’t dared to burden them with much about his feelings but he’s so lost now. “No, no I’m not.” 

“Want to sit down?” 

The next hours pass in a blur of tears. Minho spills everything - Jisung’s decided friendship with him, the long talks about music, Felix, Jisung’s dreams. After he had shared everything that had happened earlier that day his mom had rubbed his back as he cried so heavily he started to dry heave. 

“Sweetheart, I can’t tell you this will be easy,” she whispers when Minho lets her take him up to his bedroom, the boy falling onto his bed while she sits on the edge. “You loved - love - Jisung. Love makes things complicated, but is complication a reason to not care for someone?” Minho shakes his head. “The guilt will fade too, because you aren’t to blame for what happened. And Sungie knows that. He wasn’t mad at you, Min, he was just scared and confused, like you are. Even if he can’t remember everything, Jisung’s heart is too big to ever hate someone,” she adds, pushing Minho’s bangs out of his face. “Text him tomorrow. Just a text.” She glances at Minho’s phone, several unread messages from Jisung’s contact on the screen. “I know it isn’t your fault - you needed space - but he probably feels really abandoned.” Minho winces, pulling his knees up to his chest as he lays on his side. “A pretty big bomb was dropped - he probably doesn’t know who to trust.” 

“That makes me feel shittier,” Minho croaks. 

Mrs. Lee shakes her head. “I love you, Min, both your dad and I do. We’re so proud of you, honey.” 

“Thanks, Mom,” Minho says, squeezing her hand as she whispers a goodnight. 

Even with his mother’s comfort Minho can’t fall asleep. He stares up at the ceiling for a while before grabbing his phone off the bedside table. When he turns it on there are three unread messages, all from Jisung. The first was sent about two hours after he left and the last was sent about two hours ago. 

[Jisungie♪] hi Minho, I don’t know exactly what to say but i just..need someone? idk this sounds stupid hhhhhh,,, ig i just dont know who to go to? why did you keep all of this secret? have my parents been lying to me this whole time? i dont understandanything, like why werent u there when i woke up? god im so fucking confused and i shouldn’t be ranting to you you probably feel shitty too im so sorry  
[Jisungie♪] i found some of the documents on the accident in my dad’s desk and they mentioned another person in the car at the time of the collision, i can’t believe I was stupid enough to never read those over. I’m literally shaking i’ve been lied to for an entire fucking year by people who i’m supposed to be able to rely on for anything,,, my head is a mess  
[Jisungie♪] I just reread those messages from earlier, I’m sorry for sending that. I’m just really lost right now, I wish you were here because I have so many questions. I respect that you need space, though, and I hope that we can talk tomorrow

Minho takes a breath, pressing the text bubble. 

[Minho-hyung✧*] Can we meet? tomorrow? well i guess its actually today  
[Minho-hyung✧*] i can’t promise that i have the answers you're looking for but you deserve to know everything including my perspective and side of the story  
[Minho-hyung✧*] I’m just so fucking sorry for everything

~ 

“Hey.” 

Jisung’s standing in front of him, looking tiny in an oversized hoodie and ripped jeans. There are bags under his eyes that are covered poorly with hurried concealer and he looks disorientated. “Hey,” Minho parrots, shifting nervously on his heels. “How are you feeling? Since, uh, everything.” Minho hides his face, embarrassed and nervous. 

Jisung smiles, but his expression is shaky. “I’m okay. But I really want to talk to you.” 

Minho takes a deep breath. “Do you want to go sit down?” Jisung nods and Minho leads him around the side of the house and into their backyard. They sit on the bench swing in the corner of the garden, trees shading them from the sun. They had texted briefly earlier in the day and decided to meet at Minho’s to talk everything through. 

“I’m sorry for just leaving yesterday,” Minho starts, fidgeting nervously with the ends of his sleeves. “I should’ve taken into consideration your feelings, not just mine. I’m sorry.” 

Jisung chews on his lips, staring at his feet. “I mean, it wasn’t great to have that all just dumped on me and then have you leave but I get it, it’s not just me in this.” 

Minho’s heart sinks. “I’m so sorry.” 

Jisung reaches over and takes his hand, Minho’s widened eyes meeting his. “It’s in the past now. I just...can I ask why didn’t you stay around after the accident? Why did you keep this from me? I’ve gotten to know you and it doesn’t seem like something you would do - just up and leave.” 

Minho’s face pales, the summer heat suddenly non-existent. Jisung’s hand in his is the only warmth reaching him. “Do you really want to know?” he asks, voice uneven. Jisung nods and Minho takes a breath, resigning himself. Jisung deserves the truth, no more lies. “That day after the nurses forced me out of your room because visiting hours were over your mom came up to me. She…she gave me back your necklace and told me to get out and to not come back. Because it was my fault that you were in that condition - that I had hurt you and risked your life for my pleasure.” 

“What.” Jisung’s voice is laced with ice, brown eyes dulling. 

Whether the hostility is directed towards him or not isn’t clear to Minho but his breathing speeds up as he nods, heartbeat quickening. “I - I didn’t want to interfere. You were so fragile. You needed your mom and I wouldn’t ever take that away.” 

“Minho—” 

“I knew you were okay because some of our neighbors had found out from your mom about your condition. And for me that had to be enough for me.” 

Minho’s breath catches when Jisung takes his other hand, tilting their bodies towards each other. “There’s more you’re not telling me,” Jisung says quietly. “I heard some of what you and my mom said that day that we first...I mean, met for the second time? I didn’t understand it though.” 

Minho’s hands shake and Jisung is quick to squeeze them tight. “It - Jisung,” he doesn’t know what to say. No, he doesn’t know how to say it. 

“It’s okay,” Jisung whispers, voice softening, and for a second Minho lets himself believe Jisung isn’t angry at him. “I promise.” 

Minho nods shakily, staring at their hands - Jisung’s tan skin contrasting against his own pale tone. “Your - your mom wishes I was the one who lost memories,” he says, closing his eyes. “No, she wishes I was dead, she believes that much I owe her for what I did to you. She’s made it very clear many times.” 

When Minho looks up Jisung is frozen, his eyes dark. “It’s okay if you don’t believe me, you don’t have to believe any of this,” Minho says quietly. His heart is crushed to dust at the anger flickering through Jisung's expression. How many things has he ruined now? First, Jisung and his memories, and now his relationship with his parents. “This is so fucked up,” Minho stands, covering his face with his hands as he paces in front of the boy. “Don’t believe me - it’s so much simpler. I lied to you already, right? Once a liar, always a liar.” 

“Minho,” Jisung stretches out a hand but Minho darts out of reach, ignoring the betrayed look that flits over Jisung’s features. “The thing is, I do,” Jisung whispers, tears in his eyes when Minho looks at him. “I do believe you. But I don’t know what this means for me, my family. What do I say to them? What do I do when I can’t look them in the eye?” 

Minho breathes shakily, feeling his stomach turn over. “I’m sorry. For everything.” 

Jisung shakes his head, finally managing to grab Minho’s hands and pulls him back into the spot beside him. Jisung cups his cheeks, making their eyes meet. “You did nothing wrong, hyung. You protected me, made sure I was alright, put me before yourself. You did it in the wreck, waited for me to be medically assisted first before you did. You kept away from me because you thought my relationship with my mother was more important than ours. You always were thinking about what you believed was better for me, not yourself. I’m the one who’s sorry. For never realizing I had a guardian angel.” 

Minho shudders as he cries, Jisung’s thumbs running under his eyes to wipe away the tears. “Y-You didn’t know, Jisung, and I’m f-far from anything special b-but you will always c-come first.” 

Jisung nods, lips pressed into a line. “I - fuck,” he closes his eyes, “this day is a fucking mess but you should know that I want to love you,” he says, shock flooding through Minho at his words, “god, I do so much. I like you already - I’ve liked you since I’ve known you - but I want to feel what you say we felt when we were together before. The pictures in that box - the way we smiled at each other...” He bites down on his lip, eyes glazing over. “I want to try to remember as much as I can. And this isn’t me just trying to make up for lost time. I’ve been falling for you hard, even without knowing all of this, that we have a past. I want to figure out a relationship with you, if you want me. Just - will you wait for me?” 

The world is spinning as Minho breaks into a watery smile. “Yes—of course, Sungie. Fuck. You like me?” 

Jisung giggles as he nods, hands resting on Minho’s shoulders as he presses a soft kiss to his forehead, the older boy’s eyes widening at the affection. He hadn't expected this as a product of them talking through their past - he doesn't know if this is truly good or bad for them. For him. “I do. Minho, I wrote a song about you, I thought you picked up on that!” 

Minho blushes, “I didn’t want to hope.” 

“Silly,” Jisung says, expression soft. “I just…” he trails off, hands dropping to his lap. 

“What is it?” Minho asks, worried. 

“I’m different, you know?” Jisung fidgets, nervous. “Do you - can you like me for the person I am now, too?” 

“Yes,” Minho says, mind wandering to all the things he loves about Jisung. “You’re sweet and funny, intelligent and so talented - you’re so much more than just that. You’re so special, I hope you know that.” 

Jisung blushes, tangling their fingers together. “Moving on,” he coughs, embarrassed, making Minho laugh. “I have to work most of the day tomorrow so let’s go out to dinner the night after next.” 

“A date?” Minho asks, quirking about eyebrow. He feels giddy but disbelief is still rooted inside of him. Is this happening too fast? Should he be giving Jisung more time to think? Should _he_ be taking time to think? 

“A date,” Jisung nods, cheeks flushed. 

Minho doesn’t want to think. 

~ 

[Jisungie♪] hey can we facetime? I need to talk to you  
[Minho-hyung✧*] yeah, of course

“Hi,” Jisung says with a smile when Minho picks up the call. He’s in his room, sitting against his headboard while cuddling a large stuffed bear, his chin resting on its head. 

“Hey,” Minho returns, hurrying up the stairs and to his room, closing the door behind him. “What’s up?” 

Jisung’s expression immediately falls. “I brought up the accident at dinner tonight. Maybe it was stupid to do because of your situation with my mom and everything but I asked about where I had been that day. My dad slipped up, they had told me I went to the store but he got confused or forgot what they had said originally and started to say I was with someone.” Jisung takes a breath, holding the bear closer. “Hyung, they’re so obviously lying about all of it, I don’t know how they ever got it past me before. I want to confront them so bad, but I don’t know how. A big part of me wants to scream and yell but another part of me wants to cry this all away. Even though they lied to me they’re my parents.” 

Minho sits on the edge of his bed, anxiety burning him inside. Jisung's expression makes him want to find the boy and roll him up in blankets and cuddle him to keep him safe from the ugly world. “Give it some time, don’t do anything that you might regret later. I think you should just wait until you have a plan of what to do.” 

Jisung nods, “Yeah. I’m just so angry, y’know?” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not strong enough to handle all of this. I have to defend a life that I didn’t know I even had a couple of days ago and still don’t remember.” Minho opens his mouth, guilty, but Jisung hushes him. “Say you’re sorry and I’ll kick your ass.” Minho rolls his eyes, snorting, and Jisung giggles. 

“Just try to get some rest,” Minho says, “don’t spend all night up working.” Jisung scrunches up his nose in disgust and Minho sticks out his tongue. 

“You’re a pain,” Jisung groans. “But yeah, I’ll get some sleep. Don’t you dare forget about tomorrow.” 

Minho laughs, tapping his fingers nervously against his knee. “I won’t.” 

Jisung slides down, head resting on his pillows, “I’m glad you agreed to it,” he says, “I was worried I was pushing you. Am I?” 

Minho bites down on his bottom lip. “In a weird way I don’t feel pressured at all, like this is a really weird time to start dating, given our circumstances, but I’m not going to regret it.” 

“Same,” Jisung says, blinking sleepily at Minho, “I just know that I want to be with you, no matter what happened in the past and what’s happening now. It's insane how safe you make me feel.” 

Minho watches as Jisung burrows under his blankets, yawning. “I want to be with you, too,” he whispers. He does, more than anything. 

Jisung smiles at him, pressing his thumb and pointer finger together to make a heart. “G’night, hyung.” 

~ 

The next day they end up in an American diner in town, sitting across from each other in a booth, sharing a basket of fries. 

“I’m sorry about that first time we met, well, again,” Jisung says, chin resting on his palm, watching Minho drink from his milkshake. “The car thing wasn’t fair, I feel really bad. But I guess it wasn’t fair to me either, being used to hurt you...” Minho watches as his eyes lose focus as they do when he feels guilty. 

“Hey,” Minho smiles, reaching over to tap Jisung’s soft cheek, the younger boy blushing in response. “Don’t think about that. We’re here to have a good time.” 

Jisung nods, lips quirking up. “I’m glad we met again, Minho-hyung.” 

“Drop the honorifics,” Minho says, feeling warmth in his cheeks. He tugs at the sleeves of his denim jacket to help force his nerves down. “Just call me Minho. Or whatever you want.” 

Jisung looks stunned for a moment before his eyes brighten, smirking. He's up to no good, that much is obvious, and Minho tries to hide the tiny smile hinting at the corners of his lips. Jisung's expressions are infectious. “I can call you whatever I want?” 

Minho mock-groans, “I take it back.” 

“Too late,” Jisung chirps, grabbing Minho’s milkshake, much to his dismay. “I like yours,” he says when most of the chocolate drink is gone, Minho frowning. “Vanilla’s okay but I feel like today’s a chocolate day.” 

“You’re horrible,” Minho sighs, resting his chin on his hands, peering up at the boy. Jisung's beautiful - he's wearing a loose long sleeve floral top that's almost fully translucent in the back, nearly making Minho stroke out when he first picked him up. His tan skin and blond hair glow in the setting sun. There's no doubt in Minho's mind that Han Jisung is an angel. 

“But you like me,” Jisung quips. 

Minho’s heart melts as he looks up at the boy who has him wrapped around his finger. “I do.” 

When they stop at the base of Jisung’s driveway later that night Jisung tugs on his wrist, pouting. “My parents aren’t gonna be home until near midnight - my dad’s work is hosting a party of some sort. Do you want to come in? Please?” 

Minho chews on his bottom lip, “I think I should just drop you off for the night, Sungie. I don’t want to push you into anything.” 

Jisung rolls his eyes, “I’ve literally known you now for over a month, if we took away the factor that we knew each other before and said we were just a pair of students home for the summer who met we wouldn’t be ‘moving too fast’ or whatever.” 

Minho nods, ruffling Jisung's hair. “You’re cute.” 

Jisung swats at Minho’s hands. “Is that a yes to coming in?” 

Minho leans down and presses a kiss to Jisung’s forehead, the boy’s eyes wide in shock while a burning red blush coats his cheeks. “Goodnight, Sungie.” 

“Yah!” Jisung shrieks as Minho turns, walking across the street towards his house. “Lee Minho!” 

Minho stops, hands in his pockets as he looks at Jisung, the boy tugging at the sleeves of his top, the fabric shimmering in the light of the streetlamps. “Yes, Jisungie?” 

Their eyes lock, Jisung’s eyes the familiar warm brown they always have been. “I’m going to make you fall in love with me again,” Jisung shouts, smiling. 

Minho laughs, warmth filling his chest. _You already are._

~ 

[Sungie～♥] ok not to alarm you

[♡Minnie♡] I am now alarmed

[Sungie～♥] ha-ha.  
[Sungie～♥] anyways  
[Sungie～♥] I wouldve told you in person but you’re at work & I wont see you today :(  
[Sungie～♥] but I had a dream && Im 90% sure its a memory  
[Sungie～♥] It involves you so tell me if it is correct

[♡Minnie♡] ok 

[Sungie～♥] I think you were about twelve or so? I remember you had a god-awful bowl cut  
[Sungie～♥] and it was at this dance studio  
[Sungie～♥] You were preforming and then tripped and got so embarrassed that you ran off stage  
[Sungie～♥] I ran after you and found you in the parking lot hiding behind a car  
[Sungie～♥] I had these pink roses that I was going to give you after the showcase and I told you to stop crying but when you didn’t I beat you with them?? Hhhh  
[Sungie～♥] & then i started crying because all the roses lost their petals  
[Sungie～♥] So we were just on the ground behind that car sobbing until our parents found us

[♡Minnie♡] Of all the memories you had to remember that

[Sungie～♥] So it was a memory!!! YAY!

[♡Minnie♡] lol yeah, it was September so your birthday had just passed, I was still twelve. I had started taking dance lessons and it was my first showcase

[Sungie～♥] omg poor babie Minho

[♡Minnie♡] Shush  
[♡Minnie♡] but yeah it wasn’t a great time  
[♡Minnie♡] That was the first time you brought me flowers :] 

[Sungie～♥] Oh?

[♡Minnie♡] Sungie, for all the years I danced and you performed with the music department we never missed any of each other’s showcases and we obviously stuck together when we were in the same ones during high school  
[♡Minnie♡] we brought each other flowers each time, it was a tradition  
[♡Minnie♡] You even came to all my showcases during my freshman year of college even though we lived hours away

[Sungie～♥] stop it this is so cute I’m literally going to cry

[♡Minnie♡] I’m glad you got a memory back Ji  
[♡Minnie♡] was it just random or did you look at something that brought it back? 

[Sungie～♥] I found another box in my basement full of photo albums, half of them had pictures of us when we were younger up through middle school I think  
[Sungie～♥] I’m pleased to say the bowl cut only lasted about a year

[♡Minnie♡] Shut up

[Sungie～♥] :P

~ 

“Ah, air conditioner, the true love of my life,” Jisung groans as they enter the coffee shop where he works, an hour before his shift. Minho had come along, promising to keep him company. It's a hardly disguised date, the third they've been on. “What would you like?” 

“Iced coffee and a scone,” Minho replies, boldly grabbing Jisung from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder, making him squeal. 

“Let go,” Jisung whispers, embarrassed, when they approach the counter. Minho complies and much to Jisung’s annoyance, slips his card to the cashier before Jisung can pay. “I’ll get you back for this,” he whines as they slide into a circular booth towards the back of the room. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Minho laughs, shying away from the punch he receives to his shoulder. 

“Chan-hyung is going to kill me,” Jisung says when they have their drinks and food. He prods dejectedly at the slice of coffee cake set out on a little plate in front of him. “I have this long list of songs I was supposed to finish up over break and I’ve only done like a quarter of them.” 

“Do you need any help with them?” Minho asks, breaking off a piece of his scone, holding it to Jisung’s lips who pouts but lets Minho feed him. Minho feels himself blushing from the gesture and Jisung’s cheeks are also flushed pink but he keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to tease the younger just yet. 

“Mm, maybe, I mean I have to record some stuff and if you can sing that would be amazing. But if not it’s fine.” 

Minho’s stomach twists. “I’m Lino. From your recordings.” 

Jisung hums, not looking surprised at all. “I suspected after a while. I heard you humming once and it sorta clicked. I just...I didn’t know what to think? I was hoping you weren’t lying to me because you know, you said you didn’t know me. Sometimes you would do things or say things that made me think you knew me better than you let on, I guess. I don’t know, I was confused.” 

Minho sighs, “At least that’s not another secret.” 

Jisung nods, scooting closer and resting his head on Minho’s shoulder. “Where’d the name come from?” 

“You messed up my name when we were little and called me Lino sometimes,” Minho says, letting Jisung take his hands. 

“Cute,” Jisung murmurs, tracing his knuckles. “I hope you know I’m gonna force you to record with my friends and I now. You have a beautiful voice.” 

“Okay,” Minho chuckles. “I would assume that means meeting them?” Jisung hums a yes. “What are you gonna tell them? About us?” 

“Felix knows basically everything already, I ranted to him the night you left,” Jisung says, playing with Minho’s fingers. Guilt floods him and Jisung must notice because he squeezes Minho’s hands, smiling up at him cutely. “Honestly, if you’re okay with it I want to tell them that we knew each other before. I trust them all, and I hope you’ll become friends with all of us too.” 

“That would be nice,” Minho smiles, slipping one of his hands free to wrap his arm around Jisung’s waist and pull him close. “I’m going to miss you when you go back to school.” 

“I was kinda gonna mention that,” Jisung whispers. “I think you should consider applying to get back into our uni.” 

Minho tenses and Jisung must feel it because he backtracks. “Not that I’m forcing you in any way and it’s okay if you don’t want to, it’s just that I have seen you dance through the videos and you looked so happy. I was wondering if you would maybe think about it.” 

Minho rests his chin on the crown of Jisung’s head, his other arm wrapping around him too. He wants so badly to dance again and with Jisung by his side maybe he can. Maybe. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

Jisung wiggles in his arms happily, unconsciously pressing his lips to Minho's cheek. “I’m glad. You belong on stage, Min.” 

~ 

A few days later Minho opens the front door of Jisung’s house, peering around the darkened living room, looking for the boy who had texted him to come over. “Sungie?” he calls, shutting the door and unlacing his boots. 

“Up here!” Jisung shouts back and Minho makes his way up the stairs, walking down the hall and pushing open Jisung’s door. The younger boy is sitting at his desk, eyes fixed on his computer screen. A pair of headphones lay next to the soundboard by the side of his keyboard, along with a few empty mugs which must've contained coffee at some point. 

“Hey Lino,” Jisung greets, completely oblivious his the use of the nickname as he stares hard at the screen. Minho’s heart beats frantically, smiling happily as he walks over. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, hands resting on Jisung’s shoulders. 

“Feeling like complete trash,” Jisung sighs, leaning back so the top of his head presses against Minho’s stomach. “Hi,” he whispers, looking up. 

“Hey baby.” Minho grins as Jisung’s entire face glows red from the name. “Why’re you feeling like trash?” 

“Mm, Chan-hyung sent over a song that I need to write lyrics for but I can’t think of anything and it’s so frustrating.” Jisung groans, closing his eyes. “I’m literally going insane. Sorry, you’ve gotta go find a new love interest, this one’s deteriorating.” 

Minho laughs lightly, reaching down to take Jisung’s hands. “How long have you been cooped up here?” 

“Since yesterday morning,” Jisung pouts, “are you gonna make me go outside?” 

“I’m suggesting it ‘cause I like this love interest and don’t want him to die,” Minho says, squeezing his hands. “Come on.” 

“Fine,” Jisung sighs with no real bite behind his words, pulling away from Minho to save the files on his computer. “I’ve got to change,” he says, walking to his closet, “you can go downstairs or just turn around, whichever.” 

Minho nods, turning to face the wall. After a few minutes Jisung taps him on the shoulder. “Do I look okay?” he asks, tugging at his sleeves. He’s wearing a velvety pink shirt tucked into white ripped jeans. 

“You’re so pretty, what the hell,” Minho breathes, chest tight. Jisung is capable of breaking him with a smile, never mind when he’s dressed like this. 

Jisung giggles, looking almost shy, and takes Minho’s hand. “I thought of somewhere I want to go,” he says, leading Minho from his room and down the stairs. At the door Jisung slides on a pair of vans and Minho pulls on his boots, somehow managing to look the complete opposite of Jisung with his black jeans and red flannel rolled up to his elbows. 

They walk hand in hand to the park they’ve been frequenting, Jisung pulling Minho to the bridge that crosses the tiny pond in the center. The water distorts reflections of them, Jisung's form turning into a blur of gold and pink. “I have something for you,” Jisung says when they’re standing over the water, ducks floating past and birds chirping around them. 

“Hm?” 

Jisung takes Minho’s hand, skin warm against his. He presses a small piece of metal into Minho’s palm, shifting nervously back on his heels. Minho raises an eyebrow as he runs his thumb over the flat silver circle, reading the words engraved in it. 

_In every lifetime you’ve found me. You and I are never ending._

“It’s for your necklace,” Jisung says, shy, “I thought that maybe you could add it, so that there’s a bit of this me represented there too. If you want.” 

Minho presses his lips together, on the verge of tears. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out Jisung’s necklace, the boy’s eyes widening upon seeing the jewelry. “I was looking for that! I thought I had lost it and I was too scared to tell you.” 

“Sorry,” Minho laughs, letting Jisung take it from his hands. “I guess we think in the same way because I did the same thing.” He gestures to the new addition on Jisung’s, the silver resting against the heart pendant. “I get that you don’t remember it, so obviously you don’t have to wear it, if you don’t want to.” 

“‘And I’d choose you, in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality; I’d find you and choose you.’” Jisung blinks up at Minho. “You asshole, you’re going to make me cry in the middle of a public park.” 

Minho laughs shakily, “I know that are relationship is a mess but I don’t know what it’s like to not have you in my life; the year I didn’t I felt like I was dying. You - you complete me, Han Jisung. And I don’t know if this is the right time, with everything going on, but I want to be with you, be your boyfriend. So, will you consider being with me?” 

Jisung rolls his eyes, tugging at Minho’s collar to pull him down. “What is there to consider,” he whispers, Minho shivering at the intensity of his dark eyes. “I’m yours, Minho.” 

Minho isn’t sure who kisses who but Jisung’s lips are moving against his, his arms wrapping around the smaller boy’s waist. He’d nearly forgotten what kissing Jisung felt like but this is better than all of those faint memories. “I have ideas for that song now,” Jisung whispers against Minho’s lips, eyelashes fluttering against Minho's cheek, “but Changbin-hyung will kill me if I send them back another love song.” 

Minho laughs, kissing Jisung’s forehead and hugging him tight. “I’m sorry you can’t find adequate inspiration.” 

“Binnie can suck it,” Jisung says, nuzzling against Minho’s chest, “I’d much prefer to kiss my boyfriend than brainstorm more ideas.” 

Minho’s heart flutters, a large smile on his lips. “Turn around,” he instructs, taking the necklace from Jisung’s grip and fastening it around his neck, the silver pendants resting below the hollow of his throat. Jisung smiles up at him, in turn taking the charm from Minho and attaching it to his necklace. 

“There,” he says, leaning up to kiss Minho. “I can’t believe I have a boyfriend.” 

“Me neither,” Minho replies, taking Jisung’s hand. He feels light - on cloud nine. “I can’t believe my boyfriend is Han Jisung.” 

“Shh,” Jisung giggles, tugging Minho off the bridge. “But thank you, Lino. For always finding me.” 

~ __

_“Sungie! I’m so proud of you,” Minho cries, running to meet Jisung half way, grabbing the smaller boy and spinning him around._

_“Min!” Jisung shrieks. “You’re gonna rip the gown!”_

_“Sorry,” Minho laughs, setting Jisung down and adjusting the cap on his head, moving the tassel to the correct place. “I can’t believe you finally graduated, you’re an adult now.”_

_Jisung snorts, “Yeah, I’m still baby, don’t kid yourself.”_

_“Maybe,” Minho laughs, tugging at the gold fabric hanging from Jisung’s shoulders, “mister salutatorian.”_

_“Shut up,” Jisung blushes, hiding his face in Minho’s chest, the older boy’s arms naturally wrapping around him._

_“Never,” Minho smiles, holding him close. “I’m proud of you, Ji.”_

_“Thanks, Lino,” Jisung says, voice muffled by Minho’s suit jacket. “We should probably go, my mom most likely wants pictures. Of both of us.”_

_Minho groans as Jisung pulls away, the pair walking hand-in-hand towards where their families are. “Oh, Sungie, you should’ve seen our dads when you went up on stage they were sobbing their eyes out.”_

_Jisung giggles, “I hate them.”_

_“Jisungie!” Jisung’s parents scoop him up._

_“I can’t breathe,” Jisung whines, gulping for air when they pull away. Minho’s parents hug him next, much gentler._

_“We’re proud of you, Sungie,” Mrs. Lee says, squeezing his hands._

_“Thank you both for coming,” Jisung smiles, letting Minho grab onto him, pulling him close._

_“You should’ve seen Minho here,” Jisung’s mother teases, pinching Minho’s cheek fondly, “he was sobbing his eyes out when you went up on stage for your speech and had this massive dopey grin on his face when you got your diploma.”_

_Minho blushes furiously while all the adults laugh, but Jisung just looks up at him, expression fond. “I can’t be mad,” he says, “‘cause that’s what I did last year when you graduated.”_

_The scene changes - Minho is backstage in the performing center, pulling a hoodie over the black silk shirt he had worn for the dance showcase. As soon as he walks out into the hallway a familiar body jumps on him, knocking his duffle off his shoulder and onto the floor._

_“That was amazing, you’re so fucking cool,” Jisung whispers, lips pressed against Minho’s neck, the older boy shivering. “I’m so proud of you.”_

_“Thank you for driving all the way out here,” Minho replies, not ready to let go of Jisung quite yet. “I missed you.”_

_“I missed you two, I’m so happy I got in, we’ll be able to see each other again like before you started uni.”_

_Minho sets Jisung down, meeting his warm brown eyes. “These for me?” he asks, touching the stems of the bouquet in Jisung’s hand._

_“Yes, silly,” Jisung rolls his eyes, Minho pinching his side in retaliation._

_“Thank you,” Minho says, smelling the roses. “How long are you staying?”_

_“Overnight, if you’ll have me,” Jisung teases._

_“Of course,” Minho replies, “let’s go get some dinner, I’m starving.”_

_Everything turns fuzzy._

_Panting, someone’s panting heavily, Minho thinks. When his eyes blink open he realizes it’s him - he’s struggling to breathe. It takes a second but then Minho’s body is screaming with pain, his leg and arm and side the worst. He feels like he’s underwater as he looks around - the steering wheel airbag has deployed against his chest, forcing him back against his seat, immobilizing him. There’s blood smeared all over the white bag, from the cuts that litter his arms - glass shards sticking up out of his skin. Part of the car door is pressed up against his side, the bent and ragged metal digging into his waist. Minho can’t see past the airbag but his leg is hot with pain, along with his right arm._

_Minho looks to his right, along his arm that’s snapped harshly in the opposite way than how it's supposed to bend, to the tan fingers that are barely still interlocked with his._

_Oh god—_

_Jisung is slumped forward, his head resting against the dash. Glass shards sparkle from where they’re cutting deep past the skin of his arms and shoulders and there’s blood in his hair, making the brown strands shine. Blood is pooling on the top of the dashboard while also dripping down his neck and over his cheek, the drops catching on his lips and chin before falling to the soaked patches on his jeans. Red is smeared over the bar between where the windshield and passenger window had been._

_It’s nothing short of horrific._

_Minho throws up. His vomit hits the edge of the airbag and the console, dripping down his chin and neck, soiling his shirt. Against his will he heaves a second time, this time bile coming up instead of anything solid. His throat burns and he wants to recoil, to get away from the stench but he can’t, he can’t move his arms. It’s disgusting - his tears mixing with the vomit on his chin._

_“Jisung,” Minho breathes, eyes watering as he looks at the boy, “J-Jisung, talk to me, Jisung!”_

__

_Nothing._

_“I-I’m n-not going t-to le-let you g-go,” he stutters, crying out in pain when he tries to tighten his grip on Jisung’s hand. “I-I promise y-you.”_

_Minho watches the blood trail down Jisung’s profile, breathing quickening even more. He’s crying heavily, the salty tears catching on his lips but he can’t move to wipe them away. “Sungie, h-hyung’s gonna g-get you o-out of h-here, I p-promise, an-and I’m n-not g-going to l-let go, o-okay?”_

_Jisung’s silent and still. Minho’s mind betrays him, wandering to the possibility that Jisung is—_

_“No,” Minho whispers, his stomach turning over, “no. No. Nonononono—”_

_He screams. He screams and screams until his voice is gone, and then screams in horrible silence as he watches Jisung’s blood soak his jeans and stain his cheek pink._

_Minho is sitting just inches away, unable to do anything besides watch the love of his life die right before his eyes._

Minho jolts awake, a cry caught in his throat. He’s sweating badly and he pulls himself up and down the hallway, practically running to turn on the shower. Minho turns the water on burning hot, pulling off his clothes and diving under the spray. He grabs the soap and his washcloth and scrubs frantically at his face and neck, then at the scars from the glass on his arms, and the long scar on his side from the door. He rubs at his skin until it’s raw, and then collapses to the floor of the shower, curling up into a ball and letting the water rain endlessly down on him. 

Exactly one year has now passed but the memories are still clear as day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](https://wasatch-97.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/eclipse.134340/?hl=en)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **PLEASE READ!!**
> 
> Okay so,, this was only supposed to be one or two chapters so I'm having a hard time matching the writing up. In the first chapter I wrote smaller scenes and not as much detail cause I thought I was going to finish it up in the next chapter but now I can't stop writing these characters bc I love them so much :( so basically it's becoming really disjointed sorry!! But this story should only have one or two more chapters so hopefully it doesn't turn out too bad. To add onto that, I realize their relationship took a pretty big leap but again, I never expected to have this turn into a chapter fic so it was supposed to go quickly. hhh 
> 
> Also, I'm really trying to show how much being with Jisung is effecting Minho. He's gone from just confessing to his best friend he's known all his life to this boy who can't remember him but he's falling hard for. He's questioning if he actually loves the old Jisung and is trying to project that onto this Jisung or if he does have feelings for this Jisung. That's a lot to handle poor bb

“Lino, when are your parents going to be back?” 

“Mm, ten or something. We have like four more hours to ourselves.” Minho smiles as Jisung emerges from the blankets on the older boy’s bed and cuddles up to him, throwing an arm over his chest and pressing his face into Minho’s neck. They had been watching Netflix, the rain outside too heavy to walk in and Minho was adamant about not taking a car, especially given that yesterday had marked the anniversary of the accident.

“I’m glad we both had the day off,” Jisung mumbles. Minho can feel the boy shiver when he slides his hand under his hoodie, drawing patterns on his warm skin. “You’re gonna make me fall asleep if you keep doing that.” 

“Good thing we’re lying down then.” 

“I hate you.” 

“We both know that’s false.” 

Jisung pulls back, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at Minho. “You talk so much more now.” 

Minho blushes, “Should I not?” 

“No, I like you like this.” Jisung presses his lips to Minho’s cheek and then hides his face against Minho’s shoulder. Minho kisses the top of his head, arms wrapping around Jisung’s waist. He closes his eyes, listening to the sound of raindrops hitting his windowpane and feeling the steady rise and fall of Jisung’s chest. 

“I missed you yesterday. My parents were so fixed on hovering around me the whole day.” Jisung huffs quietly. “How was yesterday for you?” he asks. “You didn’t text me much.” 

Minho looks down at the top of Jisung’s head, raising a hand to touch the blond strands. 

_Sparkling glass—red-tinted hair—trails of bloody tears—_

“Fine.” 

A second passes. “Don’t lie to me,” Jisung whispers, moving onto his side so their eyes meet. “Lino, talk to me. Yesterday meant a lot. It’s been one year.”

Minho shrugs, “My mom stayed home from work and we watched movies together for most of the day and then had dinner with my dad. I slept through the rest of it.”

“Min…”

Minho untangles himself from Jisung, turning to sit on the edge of the bed. “Jisung, stop.” Jisung breathes in sharply from behind him and Minho feels guilt hit him - this is all him, Jisung isn’t at fault for any of it. “Sorry,” he whispers, “sorry. I’m - I just don’t want to break down in front of you. Like I’m doing a great job at that already.” He scoffs, hiding his face in his hands. 

After a moment there’s the gentle press of a hand against his shoulder blade. “Okay,” Jisung says, slipping his legs off the bed to sit beside Minho. “It’s okay.” Whether he means he’s okay with Minho not telling him anything or if he’s just trying to comfort him isn’t clear, but Minho sags against Jisung when the younger boy rests his head against his shoulder and takes his hands, tracing the lines on Minho’s palms. 

“I think this is the first time it’s rained in a few weeks,” Jisung says, moving on to play with the fraying sleeves of Minho’s sweatshirt. Minho rolls his eyes and lets himself act before he can think.

In no less than a second Minho has knocked Jisung back onto the bed, hovering over him. Air leaves Jisung’s lungs, his lips parting in shock. “You don’t want to talk about the weather, do you?” Jisung breathes, eyes massive. Minho replies by kissing him, far from gentle and sweet like their interactions before. This kiss becomes open-mouthed and sloppy quickly, Jisung whining when Minho takes his hands and presses them into the mattress above his head. 

“Do you think kissing me will make you feel better about everything?” Jisung pants, gaze darting between Minho’s eyes and lips. 

“Maybe, probably.” Minho kisses him again. He tries to force all of his emotions into the kiss - the hate, confusion, and fear becoming tangled with the warmth of Jisung’s body and his taste; coffee and sugar. 

Jisung gasps as Minho lets his hands go, slipping his own underneath Jisung’s hoodie and shirt, pushing the fabric up to expose his torso. Jisung slides his fingers into Minho’s hair, shivering when Minho’s lips leave his to kiss down his neck. 

When Minho’s cheek touches the cool metal of the chain around Jisung’s neck he pulls away. _What is he doing?_

“Hey,” Jisung whispers, eyes darkened and lips red, “what’s going on up here, Min?” He taps the side of Minho’s head, fingers quivering slightly from the sudden adrenaline they both felt. 

“Thinking about how stupid I am,” Minho answers, touching the silver heart, barely visible above Jisung’s neckline. “I shouldn’t have just jumped on you, we should’ve talked about it first. And I shouldn’t have used this as a distraction from talking stuff through.”

Minho blinks, drawing his hand away from Jisung as it finally hits him. “Oh god,” he breathes, shaking. “Jisung—”

He slides off the bed, drawing his knees up to his chest. Jisung is kneeling in front of him in an instant, eyes wide with concern. “Min? What’s wrong?”

“I u-used you,” Minho whispers, eyes clouding with tears. “I used y-you.”

Self-hatred burns through Minho’s veins, his body shaking under the sudden switch of emotions. He’d just used Jisung, something he promised himself he wouldn’t ever do. 

Understanding flickers across Jisung’s face after a moment. “Baby, this isn’t like what happened with my mom. We probably should’ve communicated better but,” he tugs at the hem of Minho’s sweatpants. “Minho, I need you to look at me.” His voice is firm but Minho can hear the care laced through the words. 

Minho raises his head, biting at his lip as their eyes meet. “I’m going to touch you, okay?” Jisung whispers, gently cupping his face when Minho gives a tentative nod. “Min, my mom used me to inflict pain,” Jisung says, thumb running over Minho’s cheekbone. “When you kissed me instead of talking were you doing that? Using me to hurt someone?” 

Minho shudders, staring into Jisung’s dark eyes. “No.”

Jisung smiles, “You weren’t. You didn’t do whatever your brain is telling you, baby. And if I didn’t want to kiss you I would’ve told you. It’s okay, Min. I promise.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” Minho whispers, watching Jisung take his hands and unconsciously twist the ring on his pointer finger as he thinks. 

“We’re both messes.” Jisung smiles up at him. 

“I guess so,” Minho says and Jisung giggles. He moves over to sit beside Minho, resting his head on the elder’s shoulder. “Thank you.” He doesn’t know what exactly he’s thanking Jisung for, but there’s a massive list in his mind. 

“Minho?”

“Hm?” Minho lightly touches Jisung’s hands, almost afraid to hold them. 

“I do want to be someone you can talk to,” Jisung says, sincere, “I know I can’t always be that person because a lot of what we’re both dealing with revolves around each other and it’s not healthy for you and I to just rely on us, but I want to have an honest relationship. If we can’t share something that’s okay, but can we agree to acknowledge that something is bothering us, even if we can’t talk through it with each other?”

“Yeah,” Minho whispers, finally taking one of Jisung’s hands in both of his, cradling it carefully. “I’m sorry I freaked out, you deserve an explanation.” Jisung meets his eyes, expression soft. 

Minho takes a breath, his heart pounding painfully. “I have nightmares sometimes. Usually they’re about the accident. On the anniversary I had one, it was the worst I’ve had in quite a while. It - it was more of a memory than anything else, everything was so clear,” Minho rubs at his eyes. “It was so scary,” he whispers, staring at their hands, Jisung’s fingers laced with his own. “Sometimes, when I wake up or it’s late at night I talk myself into thinking that you’re not really here, that you’re not real - just my imagination trying to play a sick joke.” 

“Hey,” Jisung taps at Minho’s knee, making him move to accommodate him on his lap. “Lino, let me see your pretty eyes,” he whispers, and is smiling when Minho is finally brave enough to look up. “I’m real,” Jisung says, taking one of Minho’s hands and pressing it to his cheek, his skin smooth and soft under Minho’s fingertips. “I’m right here.” 

Minho tentatively raises his other hand, brushing his fingers against Jisung’s jaw. Jisung lets him spend minutes tracing his features - the curve of his cheek and the slope of his nose, Jisung’s eyes fluttering shut when Minho touches his lips, his pointer finger skirting over the boy’s cupid’s bow and then pressing against his slightly larger bottom lip. Minho breathes deeply, one of his hands slipping into Jisung’s blond hair while the other glides over his jaw and down his throat, stilling when he meets the fabric of Jisung’s hoodie. 

Jisung, to Minho’s surprise, opens his eyes slowly and then takes the older boy’s hands in his, kissing his palms before pulling his hoodie and shirt over his head. Minho inhales sharply, wide eyes meeting Jisung’s who smiles and takes one of his hands, placing it right over his heart. Minho can feel each beat, proof that Jisung is here with him. 

“Minho,” Jisung whispers, eyes fluttering shut when Minho’s other hand lands on his stomach, tracing over the ridges of his abs, brushing his fingertips over every inch of skin he can reach.

This is the most intimate moment they’ll probably ever share, Minho realizes, when he’s tracing the scars that decorate his collarbones and shoulders, spreading further onto his biceps, running a thumb slowly over each silvery mark put there by shattering glass. Jisung’s eyes are closed, reddened lips parted as Minho maps out the stars on his tan skin. 

“I’m real, Minho,” is what Jisung murmurs minutes later when Minho’s fingers trail from his pulse to brush against the pendant resting just below the base of his throat. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

This isn’t sexual - this is a strong reassurance and the beginning of a bond greater than words. It’s the proof Minho had needed to truly believe he had another chance to live in a world with this boy. Feeling Jisung’s warmth and his heartbeat is enough of a stimulation for all of Minho’s closely protected thoughts to break free. 

Jisung is what keeps him human; what keeps him alive. 

Jisung is his life source. 

“I love you,” Minho whispers, watching Jisung’s eyes flutter open. He’s said the words before, but that was to another boy, he’s realized over the weeks. Jisung may be similar to who he was before, but his soul has shifted. Minho will always care deeply for the boy from a year ago but he’s falling out of love with him and falling into love with the Jisung of now. It’s not fair to want Jisung to be who he was, Jisung shouldn’t have to believe he needs to search for his past if he wants to move on and start over. And Minho shouldn’t stay in love with someone who he won’t be with again - not when this boy is here in his arms. 

Jisung doesn’t reply, understanding from a tick in Minho’s expression that he can’t handle the words directed back at him, at least not yet. Instead he laces their fingers together and leans forward to kiss him - just a brush of lips, but it means more to Minho than any other kiss they’ve shared. He hears Jisung’s reply through the kiss, though he’s known it from the moment Jisung placed all of his trust in Minho when the younger let him be with him like this.

“Are you okay to move?” Jisung whispers, scooting off Minho’s lap to pull his shirt over his head and then helping him up when he nods. They fall onto Minho’s bed, Jisung curling up against his chest, fingers tangling in the front of his sweatshirt. “Chan-hyung sent over a track the other day,” Jisung says, sighing lightly when Minho’s arms wrap around him, a change of subject that they both need to break away from the intensity of their emotions. 

“Is it good?” 

Jisung hums, nodding. “I like it. Yesterday...I felt so trapped. And lonely. So I wrote the lyrics for it. I want to record the guide before I show you and I really want to have my friends and you be the ones to do the final recording.” 

“Okay,” Minho replies, hiding his face in Jisung’s neck. “Will you sing something for me?” 

“You want me to sing?” Jisung giggles when Minho nods, his hair tickling the younger boy’s neck. “Okay, but don’t judge me if my voice cracks.” 

_“No matter how many times I see the green house in front of me  
On my way to the bus stop, I can see the red light  
With new clothes before the green light, it's been red for too long  
It seems it’ll change soon, like a colour card being flipped to match  
I like hoodies, I can't help but be stubborn and wear them even in summer  
Hoodie season of autumn is coming  
In the cool weather, I wear a hoodie wherever I go  
I'm comfortable, like a fish entering the water_

_“In July and August, I go to the beach  
Becoming a fish in the midst of the heat  
For the sake of work, my red hot passion continues  
A small concentration of heat, no fan needed  
It isn’t like that now, thankfully, it's the first day of autumn I'd been anticipating before  
I know I'm going to be stronger in the future, I'm pretty comfortable, I like wearing a hoodie  
Now it's hoodie season but last season, I was overheated and things were overcomplicated, and now I feel comforted_

_“The wind blows and my clothes fly about  
My hoodie is my windbreaker  
Wearing my hat low on my head  
My two hands touch inside my pocket as I walk proudly  
My slightly large shoulder line, the sleeve there  
A long white shirt under my hoodie  
Wearing new shoes, baby, how do I look?  
My two hands touch inside my pocket as I walk proudly_

_“Watching the colors of the sky at dawn, blue, what color is it this time?  
I matched the color of my hoodie to it  
Instead of feeling refreshing, it's cooler in the morning, feeling fresh as my hoodie depicts the color of the sky  
The grey in the light is actually black, footsteps busy in sneakers that are relatively comfortable  
Everyone's busy, I’m alone in the city centre, the atmosphere is comfortable, wait_

_“We wear hats because it’s autumn, right?  
So I have a lot, talking to myself has become a habit  
People's gazes are a marathon with no goal  
If free-spirited me is amazing, then that’s what I want to be like  
The monitor of my life and what clothes I lay out to wear today  
There isn't a style to it_

_“The wind blows and my clothes fly about  
My hoodie is my windbreaker  
Wearing my hat low on my head  
My two hands touch inside my pocket as I walk proudly  
My slightly large shoulder line, the sleeve there  
A long white shirt under my hoodie  
Wearing new shoes, baby, how do I look?  
My two hands touch inside my pocket as I walk proudly.” _

“That was cute,” Minho mumbles, nuzzling against Jisung’s neck, “what’s it called?” 

“Hoodie Season,” Jisung says, one of his hands finding its way into Minho’s hair, playing with the strands. “Chan-hyung, Binnie-hyung, and I made it towards the beginning of the school year.” 

“I like hearing your voice.” Minho hugs Jisung close, sliding down a bit to press his cheek against Jisung’s chest. He’s exhausted from the emotions that had flooded him earlier. 

“You’re cute right now,” Jisung says, a smile in his voice. “You’re always cute but you’re baby right now.” 

“Shush,” Minho mutters, moving further so he can hide his face against Jisung’s tummy, his fingertips slipping the slightest bit under the boy’s shirt. 

Jisung laughs quietly but lets Minho be. “I’m gonna nap.” 

Minho hums, “Me too.” 

“Sleep well,” Jisung murmurs, petting his hair. 

Minho moves back up, tucking his head just under Jisung’s chin. “I love you,” he whispers, closing his eyes. Jisung pulls him closer, kissing the top of his head.

~

Minho gnaws at his lip, fiddling with the strap of the messenger bag over his shoulder. “Calm down,” he whispers to himself, closing his eyes. “You’ve done this before.” 

“Mr. Lee?” 

Minho’s eyes snap open and he stands up, crossing the room to greet the woman who had called his name. “Hi,” he says, bowing slightly as he accepts her handshake. 

“Come on in,” the woman - Kim Chanhee, he reminds himself - smiles, leading him through the door of the admissions office. “Have a seat,” she says, gesturing to the couch, and Minho does, setting his bag on the ground next to him. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Lee.” 

“Likewise,” Minho says, trying not to fidget. “I appreciated you calling me back and setting up a time for this meeting.” 

Chanhee nods, taking a clipboard from the side table next to her chair where she’s sat down. “Of course. Your case is interesting, Minho, is it okay if I call you that?” Minho nods and she continues. “We rarely have students apply to come back after they’ve left the school.” She looks at him, calculating. “Can I ask why you left? You were on full scholarship for dance, that was something impressive and must have been a big choice to give up.” 

“Um,” Minho takes a deep breath, trying to focus on Chanhee’s face. “At the beginning of August last year my best friend and I were in a car accident. I got out of it okay but he fell into a coma and lost his memories. It was a massive hit for me and certain circumstances forced us apart. I guess it sounds silly but he was my biggest inspiration, really the thing that kept me dancing through elementary and high school. I dropped out of uni and went to my local college because it all became too much.” 

Chanhee hums, “What’s made you want to come back to this school?” 

“I’ve worked through a lot of what was holding me back and I want to continue my education in dance,” Minho says, “it’s my passion and I’ve pushed it away for too long.” 

“Well, Minho, I’m impressed with your grades and participation in both high school and your year here. I think it’s fair to say you were a top student, graduating with honors from your previous school and then keeping a solid grade point average of three point eight-two here. There’s nothing in your files that’s holding you back.” She flashes Minho a smile. “But with what you told me, do you believe you are emotionally capable of coming back to an environment like this?” 

Minho nods, “I understand it will be difficult at first but I’m ready to start again, to push myself again.” 

“Okay,” Chanhee says, scribbling a few things down on her clipboard, “I’m really happy to hear that. Unfortunately, if you do come back, you won’t be on scholarship anymore. You’ll be paying full tuition.” Minho nods, he expected that. “You’ll be entering your junior year, and will pick up classes accordingly as you’ve continued base classes through the past year at your local college and graduated sophomore year on time. Does that sound okay?” 

“Yes,” Minho smiles. “Thank you so much.” 

Chanhee stands, Minho following. “It was a pleasure meeting with you, Minho. You’ll receive a letter from the school in a couple of days, documenting our choice concerning your return.” 

“Thank you,” Minho says, shaking her hand. His heart is beating so quickly he’s afraid he might pass out. He’s happy, and for once it isn’t directly because of Jisung. He’s chosen to do this, to become himself again.

~

Minho is walking towards the bus stop when he hears a shout. “Minho!” 

Spinning around, he spots Felix running across the almost empty courtyard towards him. He feels nerves prickling at his skin. “Hey hyung! What are you doing here?” Felix asks, cheery, when he slides to a stop in front of Minho. “Is Sungie here too?” 

Minho shakes his head. “No, just me. Um, actually, can you not tell Jisung I was on campus?” 

Felix raises an eyebrow. “If you treat me to lunch.” 

Minho blinks and then rolls his eyes, “You’re a brat, just like Jisung.” Felix laughs, guiding him back to campus. 

They end up at the sushi place on the opposite side of the school, just off of campus. Minho hasn’t been here in forever, but it hasn’t changed a bit. “So, why are you here?” Felix asks when they’re seated, both of them having ordered a ton of different sushi. 

“Swear you won’t tell him?” Minho asks and Felix nods. “I came up here to meet with the admissions counselor, I’ve applied to come back.” 

“Oh my god,” Felix’s eyes bulge, “you’re coming back? Ji told me you used to go here.” 

Minho nods, “Yeah, I was on scholarship. Obviously if I get in I won’t be anymore but I have a bunch of money saved from working the past year and my parents will help if I get stuck.” 

Felix nods, grinning. “You’re going to be a dance major, right? Please say yes, then Jinnie, you, and I can hang out more.” 

Minho smiles at his enthusiasm. “Yeah, if I get in. And I’m looking forward to meeting Hyunjin and your other friends, Jisung talks about you guys a lot.” 

“They’d be fools not to let you back in,” Felix says, rolling his eyes. “So, why the secret? Are you going to surprise Sungie?” 

Minho nods, blushing lightly. “My parents invited him to a cookout at the end of this week and I’m going to break the news to all three of them then, I’m supposed to get the letter within the next couple of days. If I don’t get in I’ll tell them that I tried at least.” 

“That’s so cute,” Felix squeals, “they’re going to be shocked. But you’ve got to text me when you get the letter!” 

“I will,” Minho laughs. He’s nervous, but he has a gut feeling that luck is on his side. Jisung’s turned him into an optimist, he figures. 

“So, you’re dating Jisung,” Felix says, grinning slyly. 

Minho blushes, “Yeah.” 

Felix nods, a smile coming to his lips. “Good. You make him happy, and by the way you smile every time he’s mentioned, he’s doing the same for you.” 

Minho goes home later smiling, happy to have a friend who he can confide in. 

~

“Where were you yesterday?” Jisung whines, curling up in Minho’s lap. 

“I had to pick up some extra hours at work,” Minho fibs, “I’m sorry, baby.” 

“Not to be clingy, but I missed you,” he says, giggling when Minho tickles his sides, making the boy fall off his lap and onto the couch cushions. “Hey!” 

Minho crawls on top of Jisung, propping himself up on his elbows. “You look cute today.” 

“I’m always cute,” Jisung sniffs, but there’s a blush on his cheeks. He’s wearing cuffed jeans and a white, loose knit sweater, his baby blue tank top visible underneath. 

“You are,” Minho grins, leaning down to kiss him. Jisung tastes like chocolate - having admitted earlier that he had only had a kitkat for breakfast. They had briefly adventured out to the grocery store to pick up sandwiches, finishing them on the walk back to Jisung’s house.

Jisung’s fingers curl into the hair at the nape of Minho’s neck and the older boy can feel him shudder as he trails his lips down his neck, kissing and nipping at a spot at the base of his neck. “Lino,” he breathes, eyes closing. 

The sound of the garage door suddenly echoes into the living room and Jisung shoots up, pulling Minho with him. “Fuck, I didn’t think she’d be home yet,” Jisung whispers, pushing Minho towards the stairs. “Go to my room, it’s closer than the door, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Minho whispers, kissing his forehead, one hand on the railing. “I love you.” It comes out naturally, Minho hardly realizing he’s said it. 

“Hurry,” Jisung murmurs, eyes flashing with worry - fear. “Go.” 

Just as Minho reaches the top of the stairs the door opens and he can hear Jisung’s mother greet her son. Heart pounding, he presses himself up against the wall, listening in. 

“I thought you were going to be home at four?” Jisung. 

“What, do you have something to hide from me?” Mrs. Han asks, teasing. Minho can practically feel Jisung flinching. 

“No, I was just going to finish cleaning the dishes and vacuum before you got back,” Jisung lies, “I wanted to surprise you.” 

“That’s sweet of you, Sungie.” There’s the sound of shoes being taken off and a coat hung up and then shuffling as the pair move into the living room. “Wait, what’s that there on your neck?” 

_Fuck._

“Ah, I accidentally impaled myself on the microphone when I was recording earlier,” Jisung says, and Minho can hear the nervousness in his voice. 

“It must’ve hit you really hard, you don’t bruise easily.” 

Jisung’s surely blushing by now. “Mom, it’s nothing,” he whines, “it’ll be better in a few days.” 

“Okay, okay. Go wash those dishes, Sungie, I’ve got to make some calls for work.” 

Minho sneaks down the hallway, slinking into Jisung’s room and closing the door quietly behind him. He sits against the wall by Jisung’s closet, out of direct sight from the door, and takes his phone out of his pocket. Already, messages are building up. 

[Sungie～♥] I’m so sorry omfg  
[Sungie～♥] istg I didn’t know she would be home  
[Sungie～♥] I dunno when she’ll be leaving either  
[Sungie～♥] Fuckkk

Minho smiles although he’s beyond terrified. If he’s caught he and Jisung are beyond screwed. Especially him. 

[♡Minnie♡] It’s okay, Sungie, I know you wouldn’t have told me to come over if you had known  


[Sungie～♥] I screwed up, now youre in danger of my mother’s psychotic hate for you  
[Sungie～♥] that sounded terrible  


[♡Minnie♡] Just come up here if you can baby  
[♡Minnie♡] If I don’t hug you soon I think I’m gonna stroke out  


[Sungie～♥] don’t die babe I’ll cry  
[Sungie～♥] Give me like ten minutes  


[♡Minnie♡] okay <3  


[Sungie～♥] <3

Seven minutes later, not that Minho was counting, Jisung hurries into his room, closing and locking the door behind him. He immediately drops to the floor in front of Minho, the items in his hands spilling to the floor when he throws himself on Minho, arms wrapping around his neck as he hugs him. 

“I’m sorry,” Jisung whispers, and Minho can feel tears meet his neck. “I’m so scared, I’m terrified of her finding you, just everything you’ve told me about that has happened between you two…” he pulls back, looking at Minho with red eyes, lips quivering as tears slide down his cheeks. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Minho murmurs, kissing the tip of his nose. Having Jisung in front of him crying and fearful scares him further, and he doesn’t know what else he can say besides that. 

“I brought you cookies,” Jisung sniffles, picking up the boxes and holding them out to Minho. 

They’re the Meiji panda cookies, he realizes, and laughs quietly. “You’re so cute.” 

“I thought that had already been established today,” Jisung whispers, dropping the boxes again in favor of curling up in Minho’s lap, his small body fitting perfectly in Minho’s arms. 

“Yes, but I like repeating myself.” 

Jisung snorts, hiding a smile in Minho’s neck. “Stop it.” 

They fall silent, Jisung making no move to untangle himself from Minho. Minho rubs his back, closing his eyes and imagining that they were far, far away from this house. 

“Jisung! You promised you would go shopping with me, I’m ready now!” 

The boys pull apart at Jisung’s mom’s voice. “Coming!” 

Jisung winces at Minho’s confused expression. “Yesterday Mom said I had to go shopping with her at some point, today’s the day apparently.” Minho nods, heart dropping. “But take my house key and you can get out while we’re away.” Jisung stands up, hurrying to his desk and picking up his purple lanyard. “This is it,” he shows Minho a silver key when he stands as well. “Don’t confuse it with the mailbox key, it really won’t be good if you get it jammed in the lock.” 

“Okay,” Minho whispers, taking the keys and then hugging Jisung close. “I’ll text you when I get home.” 

“I’m sorry about this.” Jisung’s voice is muffled by Minho’s shirt. “We should talk later but I don’t think we should come here to hang out anymore.” 

Minho nods, moving away so he can cup Jisung’s cheeks, kissing his forehead. “Go, before she gets suspicious.” 

“Alright.” Jisung leans up, kissing Minho briefly and then goes to the door. “Bye, Lino.” 

After ten minutes Minho receives a text from Jisung saying they were off their street and he’s safe to leave. Minho takes a box of cookies and leaves the house as quickly as possible. 

~

“What are we doing?” Minho whispers, curled up in a ball on his bed, Jisung in the same position on the other side of the phone screen. “We can’t do...this. Running around, praying we won’t get caught.” 

“I know,” Jisung sighs, rubbing his face with his sweater sleeves. “I just don’t know what to do. I need to tell them that I know what they’ve been hiding, but I’m scared that they’ll hurt us - hurt you.” 

“I think we’re going to have to take that risk, Ji,” Minho says, his heart beating frantically - he’s terrified. 

Jisung nods, his lips drooping. “Promise, that no matter what shit gets thrown our way, we’ll stay together?” 

“I promise.” 

Jisung smiles, Minho reflecting the expression. “Stay with me until we fall asleep?” 

“Okay,” Minho nods, propping his phone up against a pillow and sliding under his blankets. 

They talk about this and that, Minho watching with fond eyes as Jisung grows sleepier and sleepier, words slurring together as his eyes flicker shut. Minho falls asleep not long after, exhaustion finally pulling him into slumber. 

~

[Minho-hyung] guess who just found an acceptance letter in their mailbox~~  


[Yongbokie] FUCK YES!!!!!  
[Yongbokie] I’m so happy for you hyung omg  


[Minho-hyung] me too :)

~

The end of the week has finally and Minho’s stomach twists nervously as he pulls Jisung into his house. Both his parents are in the kitchen, singing along to the stereo as they prepare food for the cookout. “Hey, Mom, Dad,” Minho greets, Jisung doing the same. 

“Sungie!” Mrs. Lee calls, “We’re so happy you could make it! Darling, I’m neck deep in sauce, can you give Jisungie a big hug from both of us?” 

Jisung giggles as Minho’s dad comes over, pulling him into a tight hug. “Thank you for having me.” 

It was safe to say Jisung felt at home with all three of the Lees - Minho’s parents always had treated Jisung as their own and that hadn’t changed even after the accident and when he came back into Minho’s life. Jisung had been a bit weary at first but as he had found more and more photos of him and Minho, he also saw how much time he had spent with his parents - how close both families had been. That, paired with the Lees’ adoration for him, he quickly became close with them again. They hadn’t had much time together, just a few quick dinners, so this would be a first. 

“Min, can you go start the grill?” Minho’s dad asks, finally releasing Jisung. “I’ll be right there with the meat.” 

“Can I help with anything?” Jisung asks, and Mrs. Lee nods, pointing to a stack of plates. 

“You can set the table outside. Thank you, Jisung.” 

“I love your parents,” Jisung whispers as they walk outside, the dishes in his hands. “They’re so kind.” 

“I’m glad,” Minho smiles, squeezing his hand. “They’re good cooks, too.” 

Jisung laughs, leaning up to kiss Minho before they separate. 

A few minutes later the family is together, sitting down at the patio table. “This looks really good,” Jisung says, watching Minho cook the meat on the griddle, then slide it onto the younger’s plate. 

“Mm, it is good,” Minho’s mom sighs, taking a bite of her own food. 

“Here,” Jisung murmurs, grabbing a bowl of kimchi and moving some onto Minho’s plate with his chopsticks. Minho’s heart flutters, Jisung never failing to affect him. 

The meal passes by with chit-chat and easy banter, Jisung laughing loudly along with Mr. Lee. Minho watches him, his own happiness increasing every time Jisung smiles. He’s a lovesick fool. 

~

As the end of the night draws closer Minho begins to fidget, fingers tapping against his knee. Jisung notices, shooting him a curious look, but Minho smiles at him and takes his hand, lacing their fingers together. 

“Well, that was a great meal,” Minho’s dad sighs, tipping back in his chair. 

“It was,” Jisung adds, “thank you for having me over. I really enjoyed tonight.”

“Come over any time, Sungie, you’re always welcome here,” Mrs. Lee says, reaching across the table to pat Jisung’s flushed cheek. “Well, lets start carrying all of this inside.”

Minho takes a breath, “Wait, before we go in, I have something to tell you.” 

“What is it?” his mom asks, tilting her head. 

“Well, two days ago my starting tuition at college was due and I kinda didn’t pay,” Minho says, wincing at the round of surprised responses. 

Minho’s dad stands up, his expression dark. “We let you drop out of your old school but we want you to get some sort of college education.” 

“Dad, hear me out,” Minho says, taking a breath when he sits down. “I didn’t pay because I reapplied and got accepted back into the arts university.” 

Everyone falls silent, Jisung staring up at Minho with wide eyes. “Min, you’re serious?” his mother asks, voice fragile. It had crushed her when Minho said he was dropping out. 

Minho stands up, grabbing the letter out of his back pocket and walking around the table to hand it to her. She reads it, his father peering over her shoulder. 

“I’ve been in contact with admissions for a while now and went in for an interview earlier this week,” Minho spills, his hands shaking, “I got the letter a couple of days ago. I’m not going to be on scholarship anymore but I’ve saved up enough money from working that I’ve paid for this year’s tuition. They want me to see a counselor once a week, too, just for talking through everything and help me get adjusted back. Obviously I’m continuing my major in dance and I’m going into junior year, they’re not going to hold me back just because I changed schools which is great. And for housing I was th—”

Minho stumbles back, his mother’s hug catching him off guard. “Lee Minho,” she whispers, meeting his eyes, “I’m so goddamn proud of you.”

Minho lets out a choked laugh, hugging her back. “Thanks, both of you,” he whispers when he feels his dad join the hug, “for never giving up on me.”

“You’re our kid, we’d never stop believing in you,” his father says, his eyes misty. 

Minho looks over his shoulder, meeting Jisung’s eyes. The boy is grinning, the light of the sun reflecting in his expression. Minho breaks away from the hug, hurrying to Jisung and scooping him up. Jisung giggles as he loops his arms around Minho’s neck, Minho’s hands sliding under his thighs to keep him up. 

Jisung presses their foreheads together, constellations in his glittering eyes. “I’m proud of you,” he whispers, and Minho’s heart bursts. 

_I’m proud of you._

_I’m finally proud of myself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoodie Season [3RACHA] 
> 
> [tumblr](https://wasatch-97.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/eclipse.134340/?hl=en)


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